#we’ve only had him for a week and a half but I think he’s starting to feel st home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungisms · 2 years ago

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🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff and so much dumbassary

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: more stupid tiktok trends, hyunjin and minho being haters in the comments, shy!seung 🗣️🗣️🗣️ chan and felix being the most perfect boyfriends ever <3

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based of this tiktok! (making me feel so single fr) so in love with this trend, i just had to write it! felix and jeongin are shorter than the rest cause i’m just one (dumb) woman and incapable of thought 👍 this took me like two hours to write please forgive if it's absolute dog. reblog for a kiss, feedback much appreciated!

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

as we’ve already established this man is a whole ass boomer and doesn’t know what tf you’re talking about half the time

so when you come to him chatting away about another stupid tiktok trend he’s only half listening

humming along occasionally and going ‘that sounds fun sweetheart’ but as soon as the words ‘kissing trend’ hit his ears his interest is 📈📈📈 and you have his full attention

will be soso useless when you’re trying to find the right lipstick shade cause every time you ask his opinion he’ll just go

:) they all look pretty on you :)

and you’re just like chan that’s so cute and all but yOU’RE NO HELP RN

finds it so hard to concentrate while you’re leaving the lipstick stains all over his face cause you just look so cute giggling between every kiss and he’s so <333

just really wants to kiss you :( and gets all grumpy when you tell him to focus :(

takes his role very seriously when the camera is on him though

will take your face in his hand after wiping away your lipstick smudge, turning your face towards him and this mf is looking at you all 🥺 with your red lipstick covering his face

and you’ve never seen a prettier sight

cue the comments going wild over how dreamy ur boyfriend is

and he just laughs straight in ur face when you get all huffy

the type to repost it all over his socials, like this tiktok will be his whole personality for the next three months

probably has it pinned on his insta and linked in his bio or some shit 😭

down so bad and it shows

expect to be clowned in the comments by the rest of the guys

they just don’t wanna admit how cute the both of you are though <333

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

takes a good full week of nagging for him to finally give in

he just really likes to see u beg :(

will be soso moody at the start and sits on the edge of ur bed feeling sorry for himself as you choose out ur lipstick

and every time you ask him what colour you should use he’s just like ‘🙄 idc what you wear let’s just get this over with 🙄🙄’

and you would’ve punched him straight in the teeth if he wasn’t essential to ur plan

pls he’ll literally melt once you sit on his lap and take his face between his hands

kissing you is definitely one of his fav hobbies so he’ll come around as soon as your pretty lips come in contact with his skin

will be all <333

you end up having to re-film it so many times cause this guy gets so carried away

every time you think he’s finally gonna do what you asked he just ends up planting his lips on yours again

you can’t even count the amount of times you had to reapply your lipstick cause this mf was busy kissing it off you

you’ll probably end up with so many drafts of the two of you just making out

you just look so pretty with your lipstick all smudged, he can’t help kissing you :(

will take a good hour of filming before this guys finally gets it right

cutest couple on the internet istg

gets so smug when he sees all the comments swooning over him the next day and you’re just like :/ stfu or else i’ll delete it

if only they all knew how hard he made the whole process for you 😭

ends up being one of his fav videos

so much so that’ll he’ll send it to everyone he knows and is like

heart, comment and share or die

thinks tiktok trends are stupid af but he doesn’t mind this one ig 🙄

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

down so bad that he’ll agree right away

but you bet your ass he’s gonna be complaining the whole time about how he’s ‘putting his reputation on the line’ for you

but he’s sitting on your bed blushing, twiddling his thumbs and kicking his feet like a fucking teenage girl while you apply lipstick to your lips

suggests you kiss him on the lips first and you’re just like ‘yeah bro not gonna happen 🙄’ cause you j u s t know as soon as your lips meet his you’ll be pulled into making out with him for the next hour

he’s just very bad at focusing on the task at hand so every time you plant a kiss on his face he’ll be chasing after your lips with his own and pouting all cutely when you refuse to kiss him

likes watching you reapply your lipstick

ur just so pretty to this guy

can’t stop fucking laughing when you finally get to it

when he sees his face in the mirror he’s like whAT HAVE YOU DONE?? THIS IS GONNA TAKE FOREVER TO WASH OFF????

and it’s like bRO STAY FOCUSED WE HAVE A TIKTOK TO FILM HERE

every time he turns your face towards him and you pan the camera over to him he’ll just go sdhisjdidjdAHAHAHAHA

and now half your drafts are just you shouting at him to f o c u s and hitting him with a pillow and he’s just cackling like an idiot

you end up having to post one of those cause this mf is useless and can’t follow a simple trend

first to comment is minho cause he has ur notifications on just to clown u

literally just a ‘look at these pussies’ and somehow it has 40k likes in three minutes

you’re surrounded by idiots

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

your lipstick stain is his fav accessory so you bet he’s agreeing right away

doesn’t mean he’s gonna make it easy for you though

argues with you about what shade of lipstick you should wear

and has no problem taking his sweet ass time going through your shades

‘what colour lipstick do you think would suit me the most? 🤨’

‘bro idc you’ve been at this for the last half hour, just piCK ONE?!’

‘-idk i think pink will go with my hair the best but all the pink shades you have are ugly af’

‘istg’

probably records you while you’re leaving the kisses on your face and posts it

don’t be surprised when it ends up getting twice as much likes as your original tiktok :(

puckers his lips all annoyingly and makes kissy noises when you’re done with the rest of his face

and you’re just like 🙄 c’mere idiot 🙄

when you finally film the tiktok he takes is soso seriously that it gives you whiplash

swipes at the smudge stain all lovingly and turns your face towards him, thumb tracing over your bottom lip and eyes flickering between your eyes and mouth and you’re just like?????

how??? tf??? is this man able to turn from the most annoying brat you’ve ever met to an actual dream boat within the span of 10 seconds???

you have half a mind to post the bts just to show everyone what he’s really like (aka a little asshole)

just knows tiktok is gonna go crazy over you guys

and sure enough it’s filled with

‘you mean OUR boyfriend’

‘[name], where did you find him again? 🧐 for science ofc’

‘the smudges are meant to be all around his face [name] not just his lips 🙄🙄’

and he just comments ‘she can’t resist me guys <333’ just block his ass already

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

nodding his head and agreeing before you even finish your sentence

‘hey babe, wanna film this kissing-‘

‘yes’

‘…bro i didn’t even tell you what we were doing??’

‘idc as long as i get to kiss you idc … i get to kiss you right!? … [name]?!’

very enthusiastic

just likes showing you off so he gets really into it

picks out some random red shade cause it ‘brings out his eyes’ 🙄

and you’re like okay whatever but you can’t help but agree he looks so cute all smiley with your lipstick smudged all over his face

gets distracted so easily

demands you kiss him on the mouth before moving onto his face and before you know it you’ve just been making out for the last half hour

‘but jisung, what about the tiktok trend?’ ‘the what????’

goes back to kissing you cause he’s so love drunk and can’t think straight once he’s had a taste of your lips

good luck getting him off you

can’t keep a straight face while you’re filming istg

knows the actual trend doesn’t involve kissing but as soon as he swipes your little smudge stain away and turns your face towards him he just finds himself leaning in again

and the rest of the tiktok is just him giggling against your mouth

and before you can even think about cutting that part out he’s already posted it

all the comments are so in love then there’s just hyunjin with ‘🤮🤮’

his lockscreen is 100% a selfie of the both of you covered in lipstick stains

one of his fav videos ever and will have no problem shoving it in peoples face out of nowhere

‘hey jisung, haven’t seen you in awhile-‘

‘yeah that’s great hahaha, loOK AT THIS VIDEO ME AND [NAME] FILMED, ISN’T SHE THE CUTEST??? LOOK AT HER?? LITERAL LOML???’

‘…’

so whipped for you and this trend didn’t help that fact

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

probably the one to suggest it tbh

saw it on tiktok one day and was like ‘…me and [name] would slay this’

you only agree to do it cause he’s so cute when he’s excited over smth <333

looks up at you so 🥺 as you kiss all over his face

hold his chin in your hand and he’ll melt

forgets the trend as soon as your soft lips make contact with his skin and can’t help but kiss you every now and then while you’re marking his face

can’t keep the smile off his face when you’re recording and he looks so damn lovesick and whipped for you that it breaks tiktok for a good week

all the comments will be

‘he’s so in love with her 😭’

‘wish my boyfriend would look at me the way felix looks at [name] 💔’

‘girlie pls drop a tutorial on where to find a guy like this 🙏’

definitely the type to forward it to everyone he knows

and their mother

probably becomes his lockscreen and everytime he holds his thumb against the screen and replays it he’s just so :)

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

acts like it’s so inconvenient to him and his life

but really he’s so giddy at the mere thought of your pretty lips all over him

won’t catch him admitting it though

when you first ask him he’ll just be like

🤨 no?? i’m not doing that?? 🤨

and when you say ‘oh okay i’ll just get jeongin to do it with me’ he’s straight into fight or fight mode and hot on ur tail

sitting all >:( on your bed as you go through your makeup looking for a good shade

but he’s blushing so hard and fiddling with his fingers cause he always gets so shy when he’s about to kiss you

another to try to chase your lips when you’re leaving your lipstick mark over his face

and you’re just like

‘SEUNGMIN HOW ARE WE MEANT TO DO THIS IF YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKEOUT WITH ME EVERY FIVE SECONDS???’

‘excuse me?? i think i deserve some compensation for agreeing to this dumb trend?’

punch him

right in his pretty face

pls

falls in love with the sight of your lipstick stains all over his face and can’t stop looking at himself in the mirror cause the shape of your lips is just so pretty

but as soon as you catch him smiling at himself in the reflection he’ll go straight from :) to >:( again

has to keep his little tsundere act going you know

surprisingly focused when you get to it

only takes you around three tries before you get the perfect shot

(he just wanted you to hurry tf up so he could finally makeout with you)

comments go wild

and he’s just like ‘see, told you the people loved me’

and it’s like ‘bRO YOU DIDN’T EVEN WANNA DO THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE???

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

so shy

plays it off though and tries to act cool but really he’s melting on this inside

looks into the mirror every time you leave a kiss on his face and is like

:) you missed a spot :)

but really he just wants you to keep kissing him

before you know it his whole face is stained in your lipstick

takes a good hour before you can even start to think about filming

he’s just too pretty and distracting

especially when he’s looking at you all 🥺 with his lips puckered

gets so nervous once you whip out your phone to record and doesn’t know what tf to do

‘okay … what’s the plan again? does my hair look stupid?? do i look directly into the camera or-‘

gonna have to talk him through this one 😔✊

probably needs a full step by step tutorial to get though this stupid trend

once he gets it down though he’s a natural

tilting his head all cutely after swiping away the lipstick smudge and smiling at you with so much love that it almost made you forget about the recording

can’t help but kiss you anyway and it makes tiktok go wild <333

changbin probably sends it into the group chat not even a full minute after it’s posted and clowns tf out of you two

#stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz reactions #skz fluff #skz imagines #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader

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evergone · 8 months ago

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Star-Crossed Lovers

Rindou Haitani x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (Allusions to sex, drinking), references to underage drinking (I do not condone or promote these behaviours), angst to fluff

Description: Everyone knows that when Rindou and the reader break up, they always end up back together, but this time something feels off.

You and Rindou broke up every other week.

When people asked how long you’d been together, you’d argue for hours on end about which break-ups counted and which didn’t. You liked to say you’d been together five years — ignoring the break-ups that occurred in the middle. Rindou, on the other hand, was adamant that every little break-up counted.

Yes, that included the time you broke up with him because he wouldn’t let you buy two of the same dress just in case something happened to the first one. It included the time he broke up with you because you absolutely demolished him in Monopoly. It included the time you broke up with him because he didn’t come home for five days straight. It included the time he broke up with you because he didn’t want to see you get deep enough into his gang business that you couldn’t get out.

So, after five years of dating — or three weeks, by Rindou’s standards — it became relatively obvious to everyone including yourselves that no little issue could actually spell the end of your relationship. The two of you were invariably intertwined. Star-crossed. At any given point in time, the most important person to you was him, and to him was you. There was nothing, truly nothing, that you couldn’t overcome together.

Except this break-up was different.

You could taste it in the air. Bitter. Empty. Soulless. There was hatred there, between you and Rindou, and it seemed that star-crossed lovers were truly just a thing of fiction.

It started out as just a petty argument. You had pointed out an engagement ring at the local jewellery store that you thought was just the most gorgeous thing in the world. It was vintage, from the mid-nineteen-twenties, and it was perfectly your size. You suggested, only half-jokingly, that he buy it and keep it in his pocket for the right time. Afterall, you were twenty and neither of you were getting any younger. But for some reason, some stupid, stupid reason, he completely freaked out.

“I’m not ready for that, Y/n!” Rindou’s head whipped around so his cold, violet gaze bore holes right through you. “How am I even supposed to know you’re the right person for me?”

The very same eyes that had just sent a chill through your entire body then betrayed his composure. Like a mirror struck by bad luck, they shattered, softened, and tried to reason with you wordlessly.

“We’ve been together five years and you don’t know if you want to marry me one day?” You asked him, both furious and heart-broken.

“Three weeks,” he said. Muscle memory. That was always his response to the whole ‘five years’ accusation, it was supposed to be funny, but in the moment it reeked of this sense that he was sick of you — ashamed of you, even.

Rightfully, you stormed out of the store, but he was hot on your heel, pleading with you to just stop and listen to him. By the time you had your keys in the lock of the driver’s door to your car, he was practically on his knees. It was a mistake, he didn’t mean anything by it, you had to understand that he was just so caught off-guard!

“Caught off-guard?” You scoffed, “How could you be caught off-guard when we’ve been together this long?”

“We break up so often, Y/n, I just didn’t think…” He didn’t know what to say, or how to justify his reaction. Rindou knew that at some point in your lives the two of you would probably be married, but he hadn’t really thought too seriously about it.

You rolled your eyes, “Take your brother, and get out of my house.”

For the next month, Rindou and his brother, Ran, crashed at Madarame’s. Ran had been whining the entire time about how much of a downgrade their living situation was since Madarame’s apartment stunk of his horrible cologne, and none of them were as good at cooking as you. You’d received about a dozen phone calls a week from him, each one begging you to either forgive Rindou, or at the very least, drop a meal off for them.

“We aren’t friends anymore, Ran, Rindou has ruined everything. Don’t call me again,” you told him eventually.

Everyone was feeling the effects of the break-up. Gang violence in Roppongi was at an all-time-high because Rindou was beating so many people up just to expel as much of the anger as he could. In meetings with the rest of Rokuhara Tandai, he was hardly focused, and would walk out having no idea what had just been discussed.

Rindou’s friends had tried in vain to convince him that this break-up was just the same as all the others — that the two of you would be back together in no time — but even they weren’t sure it was true. The days were getting longer, they were being drawn out into an agonising picture of the proverbial end, four horsemen and all, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that you weren’t interested in getting back together with him. It had just been so long.

It was unsettling to Rindou when he saw you for the first time since the day he moved out of your house. You didn’t notice him as he took in the dark semicircles under your tired eyes, and the slight limp you were carrying yourself with, and he was glad you didn’t. He could tell you hated him — he could feel the hatred oozing out of your pores and spreading all across the grocery store you were shopping in. There was no chance of you ever getting back together. He had just fucked up way too badly.

The past five weeks had been hell for you.

You had sprained your ankle really badly when you kicked your couch violently only moments after throwing all Rindou and Ran’s things at them from your front porch. Daily living had become far too difficult to handle on your own. The shelves in your kitchen were always too high to reach, so Rindou would grab things from them for you, but with him gone you had to maneuver yourself onto the counter with your one good leg and pray to God that you wouldn’t fall. The doctor had told you not to drive for as long as it took to get full rotation back in your ankle, so you were having to walk everywhere. You’d been late to work almost every day.

Despite everything, it would’ve been at least helpful to have Rindou around. Whenever something like this would happen to you, he was always there. Once, when you broke up after he got put in juvie, and you were having a rough time adjusting, he sent some of his friends (goons) to help you cook, and clean, and stay on top of your homework. You sighed at how nice it would’ve been to have that kind of support.

Between the constant calls from Ran, you’d also spoken to Madarame and Kakucho on the matter. Madarame had called before he realised the severity of the break-up to ask when you’d be “having your boys home” because he was sick of not being able to bring girls back to his house. Kakucho, on the other hand, had shown up at your door in his Rokuhara Tandai uniform, disrespecting a rule you had put in place that they weren’t to bring their gang affiliations anywhere near your house.

“Walk with me,” he ordered, and ignored you as you started to preach about how he had no right to speak to you that way. Together, you walked silently through the city, your eyes stuck to the concrete rivers you navigated through.

“Where are we going?” You asked him eventually, bored of the awkwardness and of being told off by some kid.

“Whatever’s happened, you need to forgive him,” Kakucho said, “You know you’re going to anyway, so I really don’t understand what all this mess is about.”

You scoffed, “He hasn’t apologised.” He frowned, so you continued, “Kakucho, he hasn’t so much as called me! I’m terrified that I overreacted, or that I didn’t try hard enough to resolve it… I - I really don’t know what to do. I think he hates me.”

When Kakucho didn’t say anything in return, you left him in the middle of Roppongi by himself, and went home to drown your sorrows in the beers still left in the fridge.

The alcohol relieved some of the pressure of the tense break-up, and that was more than a good enough reason for you to decide to get drunk every night for the next three days. Some of your friends from high school invited you out clubbing that Thursday, and you hadn’t the mind to refuse them. So, you got dressed up in your shortest black dress, and your best pair of heels (you had to redo your makeup after remembering they were a birthday gift from Rindou), and you skipped the line at a club owned by an acquaintance of Mocchi’s.

Inside, you were passed shots by every guy who managed to get within a one-metre radius of you. Nothing like that had happened to you in so long since it was just common knowledge through Roppongi that you more or less belonged to Rindou. You supposed that everyone knew that you were completely, definitely single for the first time in five years, and were taking the opportunity presented to them.

As you threw back another shot of fireball, cringing at the taste, your arm was grabbed by an all-too-familiar hand. Violet eyes made contact with yours, and a spark of electric panic — or perhaps it was passion — jolted through you until you took in the rest of the person’s appearance and realised it was not, in fact, Rindou, but Ran.

“Y/n!” He shouted over the ear-destroying-ly loud music, but you couldn’t tell whether you were actually hearing him or just reading his lips. He was grinning with delight. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you here to see Rindou?”

You bit your lip and frowned as you stretched your neck to search behind Ran, “Is he here?” You asked.

“Yeah, duh, we always come here. I’m starting to worry that you won’t get back together at all, the rate this is going!” Ran chuckled, but you just stared at him, mortified, and stole the wallet from his pocket. “Wait — Hey!”

Turning back to the bar, you ordered another three shots with Ran’s card, and downed them all as fast as possible. By the time you were done, your eyes were beginning to water, and you could feel the last three, or four, or maybe it was eight shots starting to settle in.

“Oh… Princess… Come, let’s sit down somewhere,” he cooed and you tried to scrunch your nose at the nickname, but you were falling way too far and way too fast into the alcohol spiral to have full control of your facial muscles.

Ran carried your stumbling form to a circular booth on the side of the dance floor, and slid you through to the back, resting your head on someone’s shoulder to your right. He rubbed circles on your arm as a couple tears escaped the pool at the bottom of your eyes. Above you, you could vaguely hear the owner of the shoulder trying to quietly yell at Ran, so you pulled your head off of him to give him some space. As you did just that, you caught a glimpse of the shoulder-owner in question.

“Rindou?” You gasped, your voice so loud it was clear over the music.

A glance back at Ran who was sitting there with a shit-eating grin, then you were right back to looking at Rindou. His pupils were just as large as yours, and his eyes open so wide that his irises were just spots of violet in an ocean of white. His blue and blond hair was so gracefully framing his cheeks, neck, and collarbone that you thought you might faint just at the sight, and he was wearing an old Adidas tee that sat perfectly on his body.

“Y/n,” Rindou breathed. He reached a hand out towards you, and you let him stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“You didn’t call,” you pouted, and your tears started to pour down over his fingers.

Rindou signalled that it was time for the other people in the booth to leave, and they did so with an ounce of hesitance. Boys were always more nosy than they were given credit for, especially the ones Rindou was friends with.

“I thought you hated me,” said Rindou in a sombre tone.

The only thing keeping your head from rolling backwards was his hand holding you up, and you were glad for it, as it gave you the visibility to squint at him. After the many, many, many times you had taken him back, how could he possibly think that one fight about a possible marriage would make you hate him? You were angry, sure, but only for a couple days. It had softened to sadness so quickly that you’d given yourself whiplash.

You reminded him of a half-dozen of the past break-ups. The time he threw you into a puddle of mud right before a school assembly, the time he joked about sleeping with one of your closest friends, the time he forgot to get you a birthday present, and all the others. He was prone to mistakes, but he always learnt from them. He was always trying so hard to do right by you. And you always took him back.

“I could never hate you, you’re the most important person in my life, Rindou.” His face lit up. “When you didn’t call me immediately, I thought I’d completely overreacted and pushed you away! I thought you hated me.”

For every break-up caused by Rindou, another had been caused by you, you were a dysfunctional couple like that, and both of you always resorted to the extremities rather than just sitting down and talking about your emotions. When you were twelve, you misplaced the study notes for the maths test he had the next week; when you were fifteen, you would flirt with adults outside of liquor stores to get them to buy you drinks; when you were seventeen, you stood him up on your anniversary. He broke up with you each time, and each time you always ended up back together.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I do want to marry you one day,” Rindou explained.

You slipped your hand under his, and shooed him away from your face, “You had a point, though.” He tilted his head in confusion. “We break up all the time. We’re not exactly stable enough to be thinking of marriage… In truth, I think we’re a bad couple. Toxic, even.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve been together five years!” He said with a mix of anger and light humour.

“We’re not even together right now, Rin,” you told him matter-of-factly, though your words had slurred together a little, taking much of the authority out of them.

“Take me back, then,” he suggested, but you shook your head and then gagged at the motion.

Rindou helped you up and out of the club, and the two of you sat on the side of the building, feeling the vibrations of the music beating through your bodies. The streets were busy with people, but it was so quiet in comparison to what the last few hours had been for you that you revelled in it like silence. While you vomited a couple times (you got a bit of it on one of your heels which prompted you to vomit once more), Rindou held your hair back.

Once you were finished, you leaned against him, and his hand wrapped around your waist to hold on to you so securely that you could tell he was scared it would be the last time he ever got the chance to do so. You looked up at the sky, but the lights of the city were so bright that there were no stars up there to guide you.

“Do you think we’re meant to be together?” You asked Rindou, “Like, do you think that, in another universe or timeline or whatever, we’d be together as well?”

He took a deep breath in, “All I know is that if I got the chance to live my life all over again, I would choose to do it all the same.”

“You love your life that much?” You smiled softly.

“I love you that much.”

In a predictable turn of events, you would find yourself waking up in your bed the next morning, Rindou by your side. Your house would be full of his and his brother’s things by day’s end, with a letter of gratitude placed in your mailbox by Madarame, and the very ring that had caused the whole mess sitting on your breakfast bar. You would ask your boyfriend to explain himself, and he’d shrug and reply that it was just a promise. He was going to put it somewhere safe, and one day, when the two of you had been break-up-free for a sufficient amount of time, you’d get the chance to wear it.

But in that moment outside the club, you didn’t much care to think how your morning would be. The breeze was cold, but you could taste the air, and it tasted like bliss.

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prentissluvr · 5 months ago

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something about being close — sam winchester

pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket.

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years.

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.”

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours.

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have.

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up.

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch.

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed.

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel.

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat.

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand.

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love.

but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips.

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap.

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth.

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible.

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

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eccentricwritingbaby · 4 months ago

Text

arm candy

lando norris x reader

summary - enemies to lovers as the two embark on a pr relationship. reader is heavily based on cristina yang and olivia pope - intelligent and knows her worth. lando treats her as just a piece of ass on his arm. the two need to keep up appearances, yet always have time to find a fight.

masterlist

“i’m sorry,” you can’t help but laugh into the conference room, “you want me to what?” your father just sighs across from you in his seat, already knowing his head strong daughter would make a fuss over this.

“y/n…” he starts, but you shoot him a look to stop, quickly.

“i’m sorry, are you my pimp or my father?” you ask with a mocking behavior.

“stop, y/n,” he grits out, “stop it,”

“fine,” you shrug, rolling your eyes.

the room was filled with five people. your father, you, adam norris, lando norris, and some mean little woman who came in meaning business and barking orders. you respected her.

your dad and lando’s dad had been business associates for a long time, never close friends, but acquaintances nonetheless. you had never met lando before, but had definitely heard about his escapades.

“listen,” the woman starts again, “lando needs someone normal and successful on his arm, not anymore models or influencers that last only a day and alter his image, his image needs to be clean, squeaky clean,”

“oh my god,” you laugh out in disbelief, “i can’t believe i went to an ivy university just to be someone’s high end hooker-”

“Y/N!” you dad stands from his chair, “that’s enough out of you,”

“dad, this is ridiculous-”

“no its not, it’s business,” he stands firmly on his ground, “it’s four months of fake fucking dating just suck it up and do it,”

“fine,” you mumble out, “but only for you,”

your dad takes his seat again, grumbling out a few apologies to lando and his father along with the woman. they all just nod their head as she moves along with certain details. you finally look up from where you were fiddling with your fingers, making eye contact with your new ‘boyfriend’. he sends you a quiet look of reassurance, most likely that he didn’t want to be there either. you both give each other a smile, and your mind hopes that this might be okay.

“so,” lando starts, attempting to break the tension on your first fake date.

“so,” you laugh, “how are you?”

“i think we can skip the pleasantries, y/n,” he chuckles, “we’ve technically been dating for four months?”

“oh right,” you continue to play along, “met you one week ago, but we’re madly in love,”

lando chuckles into his drink before the waiter comes over to get you started. once ordered, lando glances up at you, and you can’t help but find the small twinkle in his eye adorable. and then he speaks.

“you look like someone who i would go out with, without your personality, though”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you question in offense.

“i mean usually my type is-”

“girls with half a brain?” you attempt to finish for him, but he just sharpens his gaze in your direction, eyebrows furrowing at your accusation.

“no,” he denies, “just girls who are a bit quieter,”

“so, pushovers?”

“not exactly,”

“you just want a little hot minion to control?”

“no,” he tries again, attempting to find the right words, “someone who isn’t rude,”

“oh you think i’m rude?”

“did you hear yourself in the meeting? talking to your dad like that? acting like the smartest person in the room-”

“i was the smartest person in that room,” you bite back to him, “and i’m sorry i didn’t enjoy the action of being pimped out, it’s offensive to my degrees and accomplishments-”

“you aren’t being pimped out, it’s a favor-”

“oh,” you scoff, “a favor?”

“yes, a favor, you probably aren’t used to hearing that word because you’re so self-centered,” he pushes.

“and here’s two words you do probably hear often, fuck off,”

“the rest of this dinner will be in silence,” lando directs to you, the waiter now coming over with your food.

“finally, something we can agree on,”

you and lando had now been fake dating for two months. you came and went from his races, he was here and there at events in your honor, you both were successfully fulfilling your duties. the public was eating it up, excited that lando was in his ‘boyfriend era’. you both in reality were still finding each other difficult. lando found you to be pretentious and rude, you found lando to be a spoiled dick. but that was all pushed aside when it came to being in public.

you heard the knuckles wrap on your door, and you attempt to brush the tears from your eyes swiftly. shit. you had lost track of time while on the phone with your mom, well, arguing with your mom. you forgot that lando was meeting you at your apartment soon to take a pre scheduled outing. getting up after hearing the knock once more, you make your way to open the door.

“hey,” he grunts out, before he looks at your reddened eyes, “what’s wrong?” his tone softens with the question.

“nothing,” you brush off, “let me just redo my makeup and i’ll be ready to go,”

“wait, y/n,” lando stops you from leaving the room, “talk to me, what’s going on?”

“you don’t want to hear about this, lan,” he catches himself smiling at the nickname that slipped off your tongue.

“i have a heart, y’know,” he jokes quietly to you, bringing his hand up to give you a slight poke in the ribs.

“no, really?” you ask sarcastically.

“yes, now talk to me,” he laughs to you, still trying to break you out of your shell.

“it’s just the divorce,” you shake your head, “my parents have made me their middle man since they’ve been separated, and now i have to be my sibling's therapist too,” you choke up, trying to swallow back your tears.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” lando moves forward, beginning to wrap his arms around you.

“i’ve just gotta be there for everyone,” you sigh, “it’s been like that since i was a kid, i’ll be fine,”

“well,” lando starts, “i can be there for you,”

“like hell,” you laugh off, starting your trek to the bathroom.

“i’m serious,” lando pushes, “i know we’re at each other's throats, but if you need anything, you can talk to me,”

“thanks,” you squeak out, “you’re not so bad, norris,”

“why thank you, y/l/n. you’re not so bad yourself,”

it was race day, and you were actually excited. you and lando had a breakthrough the night he caught you crying. you both finally broke down the wall that divided and protected your hearts. you were feeling better about spending the next few months with him, it was going to be a relief to actually enjoy it.

“are you ready, y/n?” lando calls out from the other room.

“yeah!” you shout back, sliding your left foot into your final shoe. lando steps out of the room, dripped head to toe in papaya, bag slung lightly over his shoulder.

“you look great,” he lets go of the compliment and you find yourself blushing, choosing to stare down at your feet instead of making eye contact. lando holds his hand you and you grasp it eagerly, readying yourselves for the show about to be put on. or was it a show?

once at the track, your hands finally separate as he heads to the garage and you move towards where his father was standing.

“hey, mr. norris,” you greet with a smile at the older gentleman.

“please, y/n. how many times do i have to tell you to call me adam?” he chuckles with you.

“i’m sorry, it’s just too unnatural for me,”

“well please, try,” you continue with your laughs, “mr. norris is my father,”

“alright,” you giggle, cringing a bit before squeaking out, “adam,”

“there we go!” you both joke around a bit more before a certain curly-haired mclaren driver is jogging over to you both.

“hey, dad,” he greets adam with a quick pat to his shoulder, “can i steal her for a second?” adam nods, giving you both some space as lando starts dragging you over to a quieter area.

“what’s up, lan?” you ask him, a bit of concern in your voice since you were unsure of what was going on.

“i need to talk to you,” he sighs out, eyes holding an emotion you couldn’t put a finger on.

“what’s going on? are you okay?”

“yeah, yeah,” he shakes off, now grabbing your hands in his, “i just- i just-”

“LANDO!” his engineer calls from the garage behind him, “WE NEED YOU IN THE CAR!”

“TWO SECONDS!” he yells back over his shoulder, now turning back to face you, “listen, i really like you,”

“oh,” your eyes widen in surprise but lando just keeps rambling.

“and not in this fake, bullshit way. i want to really take you out even if you drive me crazy sometimes,”

“lando-” you try to cut him off, but he just keeps going.

“i can’t handle your rejection before i race so, if you’re by the gate after i finish, i’ll take it as you feel the same way,” taking a deep breath after his confession, lando leans in, kissing you roughly before pulling away and running back to the garage. you stand there for a moment, trying to process what had happened before a smile breaks out across your face.

lando came in fourth. you cheered and cried, jumped up and down with his family and friends, and then you took off. you started your sprint to the gate, ready to meet him and finally bask in your own happiness. ready to choose yourself for once.

you rush towards the wall just as lando is climbing out of his car. his head whips around to the barrier, searching for your face. once spotted, he breaks out in a similar sprint as you did, rushing towards you for a hug. you breathe in the moment, you and lando holding each other, for real this time, finally.

you both were a giggly mess as you made your way back to the hotel room.

“you’re coming out tonight, right?” he asks, arms not leaving your waist since you had left the paddock.

“yeah, i’m coming,” you reply, brushing your hands up and down his arms that were wrapped around your middle.

“okay, good,” his forehead meets yours, relishing in the feeling of you being in his arms, in private, “so my room or yours tonight?” he asks in a joking tone, referring to the two bedroom suite you were in.

“mine,” you laugh quietly, “it smells better,” you poke him in the stomach a bit and he just chuckles with you.

“you don’t like the smell of my race gear, love?”

“no thank you, sir,”

“alright, well go get ready, and we’ll head out in about an hour?” lando shoo’s you to your room, patting your bum as you turn around, causing you to blush as you exit.

later, at the club, you’re seated in the vip area with some of the drivers and a few friends. lando’s arm has been wrapped around your shoulder or waist all night, the tension between you two turning slowly from annoyance to lust. kisses stolen when they can be, waist being squeezed, and overall eye contact has made you a puddle in lando’s hands. you were falling for him, deeply. and you could tell he was too. until. he spoke.

“that’s a nice lady you’ve got on your arm there, lando,” one of the guys in the section shouts to your boyfriend.

“thanks, mate,” he shouts back, pulling you closer into his side. the man approaches the both of you, beginning to chat to lando about his race earlier. your mind quietly drifts out of the conversation, before you’re pulled back in as the man, now learning his name to be jack, introduces you to his girlfriend. the both of them were very fitting for each other, eyes wide open with nothing going on behind them.

you strike up a conversation with the woman in front you about her shoes, before glance over and finding your boyfriend eyeing her up and down with ease. he catches your eyes and looks away, his arm pulling you in even closer than before. you just scoff in his direction and begin to get up from your seating. lando lets out a quick apology to the couple in front of you before chasing after you out of the vip section.

“y/n! wait! where are you going?” he shouts over the music and into your ear.

“i’m leaving,” you grunt out, continuing pushing past people in your pursuit for the exit.

“why?”

“oh please,” you let out a laugh, finally reaching your destination and swiftly leaving the building. now in a quieter atmosphere, lando drops his voice and grabs you, forcing you to look at him, “i saw you looking, lando,”

“what? at the girl with jack?”

“yeah, i saw you checking her out,” your face hardens, morphing into the one you sported the first two months of getting to know lando. the one you had on when you didn’t like him, scaring the man in front of you as he watches, “i thought you were different, but i guess then again, people never change-”

“stop, y/n,” lando sternly speaks, “i am different, i like you. not her,”

“funny way of showing it,” you laugh, “i mean the both of them couldn’t even handle an intelligent conversation if they tried,”

“it always comes back to this with you doesn’t it?” he asks, now pushing you towards his car and retrieving his keys.

“what does that mean?”

“you always have to be the smartest, huh?”

“that’s not what that is,” you shake him off, the both of you now entering his car before you continue, “it’s just embarrassing that you would prefer beauty over brains,”

“i don’t do that,” he whips his head around to face you, “i just appreciate attractive women, are you saying smart women can’t also be attractive?”

“don’t twist my words,” you shoot back, “just drive the damn car,”

“i cannot stand you when you’re like this,” lando grunts out as you arrive back into your hotel room.

“like what?” you push back, moving to place your hands on your hips in defiance, ready for the fight about to unfold.

“a-an arrogant, selfish, cocky-” he starts to stutter out his list, but you promptly cut him off.

“it sounds like you’re describing yourself there,”

“no, that’s all you,”

“oh really?” you taunt, your eyes boring into his with fire, “says the guy who has only one race win under his belt but acts like he’s big shit-”

“SHUT UP!” he screams out at you, but you only push him further.

“you want to call me arrogant, baby, we both are. it’s the only fucking thing we have in common,” you mockingly laugh in his direction, his head now fuming.

“you’re so-”

“right? correct? because i am. we both are arrogant and confident however the hell you want to spin it, who the fuck says that’s a bad thing?” you ask him as his eyes start to soften, “and i am not arrogant. i’m good at what i do, that is a simple fact,” you huff, catching your breath after your anger begins to cool.

“you are right,” he sighs, “i guess we’re so alike that we didn’t even notice,”

“i am not like you,” you shake your head.

“and why would that be such a bad thing? you met me at the gate, remember?”

“because i am not some womanizer who just uses girls, not taking one glance at anything but their tits,” you snap at him.

“i didn’t use you, and you know i think you’re beautiful, y/n,” lando attempts to calm the situation, but it only riles you up further.

“oh fuck that,” you spit out, lando taking a step back from you in surprise at your reaction, “fuck beautiful, if you want to compliment me,” you sneer in his direction, bringing up a finger to point in his face, “compliment my brain,” with your final say, you turn quickly on your heel in order to walk out the door.

“y/n!” lando shouts, “stop,” he jogs over to you, grabbing your arm and moving your body to face him, “listen, i’m sorry,” he sighs, his free hand not wrapped around your arm running down his face, “i know you’re pretty good at what you do,”

“pretty good?” you scoff, “i’m great,”

“i’m trying to apologize here,”

“then apologize, correctly,” you emphasize, sharpening your gaze at him, “and don’t be sorry, be better,”

“that’s what i’m trying to say,” lando pleads, “i’m trying to tell you that i will be better,”

“don’t tell me, show me,” you push, “i’m not your little play thing, lando. i’m not one of your little side hoes with no brain and just eyes for your money,” he scoffs at your vulgar words, but let’s you continue, “i have my own money and my own brain. i am not a body and face to just show up on your arm, you want me like you say you want me?” you rhetorically ask him, inching your face closer to his, “you have to earn me,”

“i will earn you, y/n. i want to earn you,”

“acting like this won’t get you there. i deserve better,”

“i will be better,” now with your faces inches apart, trading breath from each other’s mouths, you and lando finally quiet your everlasting argument, “let me show you, please,”

“i don’t know you, i don’t know if you’ll just say this and then go back to being a dick when you get bored,” you release your insecurities to him, his eyes softening at your vulnerability - something you rarely let out.

“do you know who anyone really is?” he asks you, voice now quiet and gentle as his hand that was gripping your arm now begins to softly stroke it, “that’s the beauty of life, y/n,”

“getting hurt?”

“no,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “the unknown,”

“i don’t like not knowing,” you sigh, your soft side now coming out fully.

“i know,” he breathes out, “you’ve always had your entire life planned for you, y/n. it’s time you just relax, and have the ability to be surprised,”

“but what if i do get hurt?”

“with me around?” he chuckles, moving a centimeter away from your face, “that won’t happen,” he gives your forehead a light peck, “and if it does,” now a peck on your nose, “i’ll be around to help you,” and finally your lips. you give a hum of appreciation to his lips, basking in the warmth they gave you. finally separating in order to catch your breath, your foreheads rest together, eyes never leaving the others, “you don’t have to be alone anymore, y/n. you don’t have to do it all by yourself,”

“thank you,” you sigh, tears beginning to form in your waterline, “for everything,”

“no, thank you,” he replies back quickly, “for bringing me back down to earth,”

“i’ll always be around to humble you,” you giggle in his arms as he laughs with you.

“and i, you,”

a/n - this is not proofread so i'm so sorry if its a rambling mess, i just had the idea and wanted to write it up before i lost it

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ellecdc · 24 days ago

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hii!! how’s ur week going?? im about to started my mid-terms and im going insane hshshs

soo

this is a little idea that i had, if u don’t like it or don’t find it that good then that’s completely fine but

i thought of remus x reader in which reader is in love w the beauty and the beast (it’s my favorite princess and emma watson making the movie will forever be my roman empire) and they dress up as them for halloween!!!!

maybe reader is going as belle and didn’t tell remus to dress up w her bc she didn’t want to offend him or anything but instead, even though a little skeptical about, finds it funny and a good idea AND HE SURPRISES HIS GIRL DRESSED AS THE BEAST AND SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY AS BELLE

😁😁😁😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊byee

cute little halloweeny moment <3 thanks for your request! I hope I did it justice :)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who dresses up as Belle [678 words]

CW: halloween, dirty joke but nothing explicit, mentions of a 'drink table' but no descriptions of drinking

“You look so cute, Y/N.” Lily cooed as she looped her arms through the rope spider web the two of you spent all night tying as she watched you adjusted the white apron around your waist, smiling at her in the mirror as you finished putting on your costume. “Does this mean Remus is gonna be the Beast to your Belle?”

You sighed with a smile as you smoothed your hands over the blue dress you were wearing, a small red rose tucked into the pocket of your half apron. “No…costumes and dressing up isn’t really his thing.” You admitted rather ruefully. “I wasn’t going to force him.”

Lily made a sympathetic sound as she came to smooth out the bow you had tied behind you that you couldn’t see. “Did you ask, though? I think Rem would do just about anything you asked of him, you know?”

You flushed at the sentiment and worried your lip between your teeth. “I told him that I would be dressing up, but he didn’t seem very keen. It’s alright; maybe next year!”

Lily looked like she had more to say (though, when did she not?) but gave you as good a hug as she could manage with her four extra legs strapped to her back. “Alright, let’s go find our dates, hm?”

The Gryffindor common room was only just starting to fill up as the portrait hole was propped open for other houses to attend, but most of the Gryffindor’s were already there.

Most of them.

“Lils, do you see the bo-”

“Oh my god!” Lily nearly squealed as she grabbed at your arm (rather roughly, you might add - that was definitely going to bruise).

“Merlin, Lily, what’s gotten in-” but the words died on your lips when you turned to see the boys descending the stairs from their dormitory.

Sirius was dressed as Freddie Mercury, Peter was dressed as Dumbledore, James was dressed as the moth no doubt to Lily’s spiderweb, and Remus…

“Good evening.” He greeted you with a theatrical bow, holding his hand out for your own.

“Rem-”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before returning to his full height, adorned in the formal wear of The Beast.

“What are you doing?” You laughed, incapable of taking your eyes off of his soft smile and honeyed gaze to even fully appreciate the costume he was wearing.

“You were so excited to dress up, and I knew you’d make a beautiful Belle, so…” He trailed off as his gaze trailed appreciatively over your form.

“You dressed up for me?” You nearly cooed, causing Lily to let out a boisterous laugh.

“I told you he’d do just about anything you asked of him!” She chided.

“S’no fair either.” Sirius pouted from his otherside; fake moustache moving comically as he levelled you with a look. “All these years we’ve been begging him to dress up with us.”

“Last year we were Goldilocks and the two bears.” Peter continued.

“The year before that we were the teenage mutant ninja turtles, sans Raphael.” James carried on.

“And you can’t forget the embarrassing year we went as three of the four seasons.” Sirius grumbled earning him hums of agreement from the other two Marauders.

“But…why didn’t you guys just find three themed costumes?” You asked then; the three boys blinking at you as Remus let out a loud snort.

“My point, Y/N,” Sirius continued with faux contempt, “is that you should feel very special.”

“I do.” You let out somewhat breathlessly as you turned to watch Remus turn bashful.

“Let us know if he’s a beast in bed too, yeah?” James called over, earning him an elbow in the gut from Lily.

“James.” Lily chided, though when he turned his attention towards the drink table, she mouthed ‘he is, though, right?’.

“I can’t believe you did this.” You murmured as you let Remus lead you towards the snack table.

“For you?” He asked as he popped a cheese puff in his mouth. “I’d do just about anything you asked, dove.”

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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I would love to see something from the beginning of poly!marauders relationship where they are figuring out that they all want to be together and learning how to make it work. I’ve always wondered how their relationship would start!

Thanks for requesting my love! It took me so long to get to it, I appreciate you being so patient with me <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Sirius is playing with Remus’ fingers, and you’re trying to figure out if the ache of longing in your chest is some relative of jealousy. You don’t want it to be. Remus and Sirius are your friends, and you’re happy that they make each other happy. And honestly, looking at them now, with Sirius’ leg slung over one of Remus’ and Remus’ long fingers in his grasp, you’re not sure which one of them you’d trade places with if you could.

Things have gotten…complicated, lately, though none of you are talking about it. Two weeks ago, James had kissed you, and you’d really, really liked it, but you’d felt obligated to confess your confusion to him. You do like James and want him to kiss you, but you can’t help feeling guilty for also harboring feelings for two other people at the same time. It wouldn’t feel fair to start something with James, who deserves all the best anyone has to offer, if you feel like you can’t be fully in it with him.

And of course you’d known he’d be cool about it, but you hadn’t expected him to truly understand. He’d told you that Remus had kissed him back before he and Sirius had gotten together, and James hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other boy either. Neither of you had quite known how to move forward in light of your admissions, but you’d agreed to put things between the two of you on hold for the time being.

Then just yesterday, you’d been walking to class with Sirius, and he’d accidentally brushed your bum with his hand. The zing you’d felt was probably more a nervous response than anything else, but it had felt markedly different from the icky feeling you’d gotten when boys had touched you without your consent before. Sirius had been quick to apologize, and you’d waved it off, but you’d seen the look in his eyes. You aren’t usually one to flatter yourself by presuming anyone might have feelings for you, but the attraction in his gaze was unmistakable.

You haven’t said anything to anyone about that, but even now, when he’s half atop his boyfriend, Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to where you’re working on your homework.

“Anyone started on the potions essay?” Remus asks.

“No,” says James. “Have you?”

“No.”

You and Sirius both make quiet sounds of agreement.

It’s silent again, the only sound the gentle scratching of pen on parchment.

“Alright.” James sets his pen down with a thwap. “What’s going on with you guys?”

You look up, and he’s staring right at you.

“What, me?”

“Everyone!” James shakes his head. “No one is talking to each other. Did something happen?”

You press your lips together, but Sirius blurts, “I told Remus I was into Y/N.”

James blinks, looking about as shocked as you feel but without the added embarrassment. You wish, not for the first time, that you could apparate straight out of Hogwarts.

“It’s fine,” Remus says. “We’ve sorted it.” He gives you a kind look. “Don’t look so nervous, love, I wasn’t upset. It’s not like we don’t all have thoughts about other people sometimes.”

Sirius looks unsurprised, and you gather that was a part of the conversation they’d already had, but James nearly chokes on air.

“Do you?” he asks.

Remus flushes, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around Sirius’. “Sure. Sometimes.”

James and Remus’ gazes are locked, a sort of heaviness building in the air between them, and you hurry to dispel the tension. “I mean, you’re all very good-looking,” you laugh. “It’d be impossible not to notice each other.”

Sirius seems on board with your plan of levity, falling easily into his default flirtatiousness. “Yeah, gorgeous? Do you notice as well?”

For a second, your mouth works without sound, your thoughts flittering about your head like frenetic butterflies. You’re sure your face is turning a humiliating color. “I—I mean, like I said, it’s hard not to.” You clear your throat. “You don’t get to be the golden boys of Gryffindor for nothing.”

“And here I thought it was our brains.” Sirius grins, letting you out the trap he’d unintentionally ensnared you in. “Well, if we’re known for our looks, then it makes sense why you’re part of the group too.”

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but you don’t miss Remus’ tiny nod of agreement.

“Wait a minute,” James says, still looking between the lot of you like he’s refereeing a particularly perplexing tennis match. “So…Sirius and…who all here likes who?”

You go mute, as do the other boys.

James nods, and he’s sticking his tongue in his cheek like he does when he’s nervous, but the set of his brows is resolved. “Okay, I can go first. I fancy each of you.”

You look over at Remus and Sirius, but neither of them appear as shocked as you’d think the profession would warrant. Sirius opens his mouth like he has something to say, then shuts it again.

“Trust me, I feel very weird about it,” James goes on anxiously. “I just wasn’t sure—”

“No, it’s alright.” Remus leans forward slightly, looking like he would reach out and comfort James if he were close enough. “I’ve…I’ve had similar thoughts.”

Sirius has ceased his toying with Remus’ hand, but he doesn’t let it go, looking down at their joined fingers. “Me too,” he says, not quietly but noticeably lower than his normal half-shouting volume.

“I never…I don’t really understand it all the way,” you admit. “But I think I like each of you too.”

There’s another agonizing silence. Remus starts to brush his thumb gently over Sirius’ knuckles.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” you say finally. “I see you two together, and I’m not jealous at all. But I like you both.” You look over at James, and your face hasn’t cooled at all, but it gets a new wave of heat now. “And you, too.”

James gives you a little smile, and it’s like he can’t help himself, reaching over to give your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

“I don’t think,” Remus says carefully, “that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, it’s not like any of us doesn’t like anyone else, apparently. Just…what do we do about it?”

You and James exchange a look, but this suddenly feels like something you shouldn’t intervene in. You’re both single, but Remus and Sirius aren’t.

“Well,” Sirius drawls with a nonchalance that’s definitely forced but so familiar that you’re grateful for it anyway, “if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to date.”

“You are dating,” you point out.

Sirius shoots you a mocking look. “Date all of you, smart-ass.”

James lets out a little laugh, and you smile a bit at Sirius’ brashness. The both of you look to Remus.

Remus only shrugs as if you’ve asked him to comment on the weather. “S’alright with me.”

James really does laugh now, the loud, hooting sound you love so much. “It’s alright? You really do know how to make someone feel special, Moons.”

“Fuck off,” Remus laughs. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Um, that we’re the most attractive people you’ve ever seen and nothing would make you happier?”

“Well there you go, James. You’ve said it for me.”

The laughter dies out, the new awkwardness of more-than-friends settling over the four of you.

“Well shit,” Sirius says after a minute. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “You’re the only ones who have been in a relationship, what do you guys do?”

Sirius looks at Remus, and Remus looks back.

“What do we do?” Sirius whispers to him. “Do we…we go on dates sometimes, yeah?”

Remus nods, one corner of his lips twitching amusedly.

Sirius turns back to you and James, nodding decisively. “A date,” he announces. “Pick you all up in, uh, our common room at eight?”

“Eight is good for me,” James says, grinning so hugely you can’t help but smile with him. “Now, if we’re all done being weird—Y/N, lovely, could you help me with this charms homework? I’m dying over here.”

You scooch closer to him, peering at his parchment and wondering if now you can stop cataloging all the places your bodies touch, your shoulder brushing his upper arm.

“It looks fine to me,” you say after a moment.

“I know, sorry” James replies, leaning into you so that the warmth of his arm seeps into your skin. “It was a charade.”

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thegettingbyp2 · 9 months ago

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Austin butler x reader

Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father

A Lot of Changes

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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.

He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’

‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.

‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’

‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.

‘And how did you propose?’

‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.

You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.

‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.

‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.

‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.

‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’

‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’

‘Marry me.’

His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.

‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’

‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’

‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’

‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.

‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.

When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.

‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’

‘What kind of changes are you making?’

‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’

The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.

‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.

‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’

‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’

Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’

You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader

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alwaysmicado · 26 days ago

Text

in my arms

2.1k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: fluff, Joel’s POV (first person) Summary: As Joel watches you sleep beside him for the first time, he realizes just how deeply he’s come to crave something more than just fleeting moments together. A/N: This one-shot has been sitting in my drafts for ages, and I could really use a bit of heartwarming fluff right now—so I figured it’s the perfect time to share. I really hope it’ll bring you some comfort, too. Can be read alone or within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from you! ♡

It’s been a while since anyone’s slept in my bed with me.

Hell, it’s been a long time since I let anyone close enough to even get that far. But you—well, you have a way of making everything feel different, even when you don’t know it. Even when you don’t mean to.

And tonight, after weeks of the same routine, of having you in my arms just for the space of a couple of hours and then watching you slip away again, you are still here.

Fast asleep in my bed.

I shift in the darkness, the mattress dipping just slightly beneath me as I turn onto my side to face you fully. The only light in the room comes from the full moon shining outside, its glow filtering through the slats of the blinds, casting faint lines of silver and shadow across your bare skin.

You’re lying on your belly, one arm tucked under the one pillow in my bed—yeah, yeah, I know—while the other rests loosely against the sheets. Your breathing is slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm that is starting to soothe something deep inside me I didn’t even realize was tense.

I can’t sleep.

Not because I’m not tired—God knows I am—but because the idea of closing my eyes and missing even a second of this, of you being here, feels like something I can’t bear.

It’s strange. I’m not used to feeling this way.

Most of the time, when we’ve been together, I’ll lie awake for a bit after you’ve left, letting the quiet of the house settle over me like a blanket, pretending I don’t mind the loneliness creeping back in. Pretending I don’t mind that you leave.

But tonight is different. Tonight, you stayed.

I didn’t expect it, honestly. After the way the night had gone, with you laughing and dancing and a few too many Tequila shots, I figured you’d brush me off like you always would when we were done—give me that soft smile, kiss me one last time, and then slip out into the night before I could say anything to stop you.

But when I asked if you were alright, if you wanted me to call you a cab, you surprised me. You said no.

“I think I, uh, might have had just a liiiittle too much to drink,” you mumbled, half-laughing as you tried to sit up, only to sway slightly and grab onto my arm for balance. “Maybe I should just…stay here. If that’s okay.”

Of course, it was okay. It was more than okay.

But the way you said it, so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, like it didn’t send a rush of something sharp and warm straight to my chest, made me realize how much I’d been hoping for this. Hoping for you to stay, to let me have this one night, where it wasn’t just about the—albeit fantastic—sex we had. Where it was about something more, even if we never put a name to it.

So, here we are.

You didn’t say much after we settled in. Just curled up beneath the sheets, close enough that I can now feel the warmth of your body beside me, but not so close that it feels like you’re giving me more than you’re ready to. And that’s fine. I’ll take whatever you are willing to give.

The truth is, I’ve been wanting this for a while now. Maybe even since the first time I took you home, if I’m being honest with myself. There’s just something about you that has gotten under my skin from that very first time our eyes met, and no matter how much I try to keep things simple, I can’t help the way I feel. The way you make me feel.

You’re smart, funny, insanely gorgeous, and stubborn as hell sometimes—but you have this vulnerability about you, too. Like you’re always holding back, keeping a part of yourself just out of reach, and for some reason, I want to be the one to reach it.

Tonight, though…tonight, I have you right here. No walls, no goodbye, no running off into the night. Just you, asleep beside me, looking so damn peaceful it makes my chest ache.

I shift a little closer, gently, just enough so that I can see your face better in the low light. I have the sudden urge to trace the contours of your face with my fingers, to put a soft kiss on your lips.

My hand twitches at my side, but I don’t move. Don’t want to risk waking you, even though part of me wants you to wake up, to look at me with those tired eyes and give me that sleepy smile that always makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m more than a temporary distraction to you.

I believe you when you say you like spending time with me. You make me feel it, too. When we’re together, you’re really here with me. But it’s just that, after every time, it ends. You always leave.

And I’m left wondering when, or if, you’ll come back to me.

I watch you for a long time. Longer than I should, probably. But I can’t help it. There’s something about the way you look when you’re asleep—so soft, so unguarded—that makes me feel like I’m seeing a part of you you don’t let anyone else see. Not even me.

I wonder what you’re dreaming about. If you’re thinking about anything at all, or if your mind is finally at peace, even for just a little while. I hope it’s the latter. You’ve had a stressful week you told me, and I hope you’re dreaming of something nice, something that makes you feel safe.

And I want to be that for you. I want to be the one who makes you feel safe. But I know better than to push my luck. You aren’t ready, and I’m not going to ask for more than you can or want to give.

Still, lying here beside you, feeling the warmth of your body so close to mine, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if things were different. If this wasn’t just a one-time thing, but something we did every night. If you stayed, not because you were too drunk to leave, but because you wanted to.

Because you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

I can picture it so easily—waking up with you next to me, your sleepy voice mumbling something incoherent as you stretch and blink the sleep from your eyes.

I’d make you coffee, just the way you like it in the morning, and we’d sit at the kitchen table, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Maybe we’d bicker about something stupid, like which show to watch or who gets to choose the music while we cook dinner. And then, at the end of the day, we’d come back to this—this quiet, this closeness—and I’d fall asleep knowing you are right here in my arms.

But that’s not how things are.

I know that. I’m not delusional. I know that whatever this is between us, it isn’t something you’re ready to define. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe I can be okay with that, at least for now.

But damn, it’s hard not to want more.

Not because I want to hold you back or limit the way you explore the world and discover yourself—that’s the last thing I’d ever want for you. You’re young and bright, and the world’s wide open for you. It’s because of you—the way you make me feel when you’re with me. The way your smile lights up my world, the way you make everything feel like it matters.

The way you make me believe I could be the man you deserve.

You shift in your sleep, your body turning slightly toward me, and I freeze for a second, thinking you’re waking up. But you don’t. You just let out a soft sigh, your hand twitching as it curls into the pillow, and then you settle again, your breathing evening out once more.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

God, I’ve got it bad.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this. The last time I’ve cared this much about someone, about something that wasn’t already a part of my life. I was used to keeping things simple, keeping my world small. It was easier that way. Less messy, less tiring. But you…you snuck in somehow, made a place for yourself without me even realizing it, and now that you are here, I don’t want to let you go.

I won’t tell you that, though. I’m not stupid. I know you aren’t ready to hear it, and the last thing I want to do is overstep and scare you off. I can wait. I can be patient.

But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.

My eyes trace the curve of your cheek, the gentle slope of your lips, and my fingers itch to touch you. I know I shouldn’t. I know this is already more than you’ve given me before.

But It’s hard. It’s hard not to reach out and hold onto this moment, to hold onto you.

I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself and my heartbeat, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same thing: What if this is the only time?

I reach out, finally letting my fingers brush lightly against your temple, tracing your soft skin, your cheek, your shoulder. You don’t stir, don’t even flinch, and for some reason, that makes my chest tighten even more. You trust me, even in your sleep. Trust me enough to let me be here with you, to see you like this, vulnerable and real.

And that…that means more to me than I could ever put into words.

I move closer, just enough so that our bodies are barely touching, and I let myself close my eyes for a moment, even though I know I won’t sleep. Not tonight. Not with you here, like this.

Instead, I just let myself feel it. The warmth of your skin, the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart just a few inches away from mine. It’s a quiet kind of intimacy, one I haven’t realized I’ve been missing for a long time.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and slip away again, back to the way things always are between us. Maybe you’ll put up your walls, tell yourself this didn’t mean anything more than any other night. And maybe I’ll let you, because I’m not ready to push for more, not yet.

For now, you’re here. You’re here. And that’s enough.

For now, that’s enough.

I open my eyes again, letting them drift back to your face. You’re still so peaceful, so soft in the moonlight, and I feel something swell in my chest that I haven’t felt in years. Something big, something real.

I lean in, just a little, pressing the softest kiss to your warm forehead, barely more than a whisper of touch. You don’t wake, don’t even stir, but the simple act makes something settle deep inside me. Like this is right. Like this is how it’s supposed to be.

I could stay like this all night, just watching you, soaking in the quiet comfort of you beside me. And maybe I would, if I didn’t feel the pull of sleep finally creeping up on me. My eyelids grow heavier with each passing second, and even though I try to fight it, I know I can’t stay awake forever.

You keep me on my toes, but I’m not thirty anymore.

So, with one last look at you, one last moment of quietly letting myself feel everything I haven’t been ready to admit, I let my eyes close. My hand rests lightly against your waist, and I finally let sleep take me.

For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep feeling like I’m not alone. Like I don’t have to be. Like maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something more.

And that thought—you—is the last thing on my mind before I drift off.

– – –

Series Masterlist ♡ Joel Masterlist ♡ AO3

taglist: @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @theoraekenslover @moel-jiller

@dugiioh @eviestevie-14 @ghostofzion @joeldjarin @jupiter-soups

@koshkaj-blog @missladym @paleidiot @pattwtf @theoraekenslover

@pedritoferg @runningmom94 @serenadingtigers @sofiparallel @staywildflowahchild

@the-orange-tabby-cat @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods @yassspose @rarachelchel

@am-3-thyst @joelinawrites @purpleprincess75

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #fwb!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #series: you wanted this #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fluff

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izzystizzys · 3 months ago

Text

When the 212th collaborates with the 501st, chaos is sure to follow in their footsteps. This has been largely true of every engagement since the start of the war, in Cody’s experience. Had he even an ounce more of a rebellious streak, he might question why and whether the success rate is worth the feral instinct for mayhem his battalion and Rex’ awaken in each other - as it is, he simply fills out the after action reports and then screams into his pillow, which is hard as durasteel and doesn’t warrant the name.

Or, on some days, he steps into the training rooms to work off some nervous jitters only for his foot to catch on someone’s armoured shoulder and faceplant straight into what looks like the entirety of both battalions piled together in a massive cuddle pile.

“What”, he manages between gritted teeth, heaving himself up with one hand supported on Crys’ arm and the other planted in places that make Boil jackknife up with a strangled yelp, “the kriff is this?!”

“We’re watching the Corrie Reality Special, sir”, his own voice calls from somewhere across the room. “The 91st is passing by, so we have satellite access to the Coruscant Broadcast network for a few hours, and we couldn’t settle on a specific show -“

“- so we decided to watch them all”, Rex finishes, sheepishly, where he’s fought his way through wiggling piles, hoots and badly imitated monkey lizard noises. The thought that he shares DNA with these degenerates is enough to drive Cody to the brink of a nervous breakdown some days. “Spopcorn?”

Ah. The Corrie Reality Circuit. When Cody first heard of it, he’d thought it was a prank. Then, they were deployed to the middle of bumkriff nowhere on the edges of Midrim space edging on Outer Rim, with a connection so spotty even classified military intel only got through about half the time, and the whole idea got shelved in favour of clankers and keeping his General’s lightsaber in his General’s hand where it belonged.

Now, a gaudy, glittery monstrosity of a logo announcing a Coruscant Rotational special appears on a rigged up screen, which means one of two things: either Fox is pulling the Galaxy’s greatest long con on all of them, or he’s been murdered and replaced with an evil clone (ha!), because there are no circumstances in which he would agree to star on Coruscant Reality TV.

Cody tilts his head consideringly. Rex smiles at him sheepishly. Tilts the spopcorn bowl at him, invitingly.

“Oh, dank farrik, sit your shebs down!”, someone (Fives, probably) yells out, fed-up…ly.

Cody sits his shebs down.

“Good morning and welcome all of Coruscant to the Great Coruscant Rotational Special: Our Boys in Red Edition!”, a bright red Twi’leki man announces on the screen amidst cheerful jizz music and loud hooting from the training room. “My name is Braham Horton, and I will be your exalted host for this fine, fine late night cycle!”

“And now, gentlebeings of the metropolis, I present to you the images that have driven us all to laughter, joy, and even tears at times over these past few weeks - whodathunkit, that the CSF media project would enthrall a whole Galaxy of viewers and cause the largest recorded peaceful civil protest of all time?!”

“The sorry what now”, says Cody, suddenly thinking back to the urgent meeting General Kenobi was currently in with Generals Windu and Yoda - passing by on the Venator in orbit. “Uhm”, says Rex. Braham Horton, unfazed by the commotion he’s causing lightyears away, chatters on.

“- many hours, so we’ve compiled an introductory little best-of for you, exalted viewers! And what better best of to start off on than the hottest entry of the most explosive bombshell into the villa - please give it up for Commander Thorn and how he stole all of our hearts on Love Island!”

A garish, club-tech jingle Cody has so far only heard buzz through the walls of establishments that generally didn’t allow clones thrums through the training room, followed by what can only be described as the sort of noises spiced up banthas might make. Thorn appears on screen, more oiled up and half-naked than Cody remembers, though just as bleach-blond, hair slightly longer than regulation and smile blindingly perfect.

“I’m Commander Thorn, baseline twenty-four years humanoid - during daytime I might be the scourge of Coruscant’s criminal underworld, but at night I don’t mind playing good cop for you!” He punctuates it woth a sleazy wink and fingerblasters that have Rex honest-to-god gagging, and Cody seeing his life flash before his eyes. If Alpha-17 finds out about this…

Suddenly, Thorn’s smile drops in favour of what might almost be called a scowl on even his handsome face, and the music cuts out. “There, got your soundbyte. Can I go back now? I’m supposed to be on shift.” Indistinct, off-screen chatter and a captioned oopsie… appear in a shower of glitter. Thorn’s face does something complicated. “For HOW MANY MONTHS?!”

Cut to a montage of what Cody can only describe as beaches, oil and abs galore, Braham Horton narrates and extremely close-up shot of what Cody tries very hard not to identify as Thorn’s crotch. His own crotch, in a way. Oh no, that’s weird, stop that train of thought immediately-

“Although our favourite bombshell’s entry into the villa wasn’t without its hitches and hurdles-“, emphasized by a zoom-in on Thorn’s form in a speedo huddled away from a partying crowd of softcore-kriffing contestants on a yacht, “- as well as all know, he would soon find his place in the villa - or places, rather!”

Two crying humanoid women appear on screen, with eyeliner smudges down to their knees. A hoot goes through the room. Cody watches with a sense of impeding doom. “You slept with her after I chose to match up with you instead of Chad?! How could you!”

Thorn, still oiled up with both blasters out for the world to see, winces. “I didn’t me-“

A hysterical gasp, a camera swerve. Three more people stand by the doorway, all clutching their chests with wide eyes. A broad, green Twi’leki man raises a finger to point accusingly. “You were sleeping with them too?! I thought I was the only one!”

“Dear Force”, Cody murmurs, unable to look away from the building speeder wreck on screen. Braham Horton laughs good-naturedly at his misery. “Ah, good times! And who could forget the all-out brawl of the following matching night, where a record number of every single other contestant attempted to physically fight the others for the right to match up with Commander Thorn! Including a somehow returned Chad, who nearly won thanks to the element of surprise. I wish we could show the footage, but then we’d have to slap several warnings on it and probably still get taken off the air.”

“I didn’t know Corries kriffed like that!”, someone (Fives, let’s be honest, it was definitely Fives) calls out into the room, receiving snickers and a well-aimed pillow to the throat for his trouble. He goes down with a choking scream.

“Someone who was less impressed by the hot’n bothered beach weather was Commander Thire, who found himself Less than Impressed by his co-contestants inability to keep it in their pants on Too Hot To Handle!”

Thire’s face, identical to Thorn’s in every way except the ones that matter, appears on screen. His black hair is cut in a cropped mohawk, arms folded over a button-up he’s carefully pieced together with… safety pins? Where are the buttons on it?

“These people are pathological and pathetic and I will spend not a second longer on this farce of an attempt at ‘entertainment show’”, says Thire, air-quotes so sharp they could cut stone. His scowl might be permanently etched into his face, Cody can’t tell. “Unlike literally everyone else, I have an actual job to do. Now move.”

A brief pause, in which cheerful jizz music plays over what is obviously a producer begging off-camera, followed by an eyeroll so hard it hurts Cody’s brain to watch. Thire throws his hands into the air in defeat, marching off into the sea behind him still fully clothed.

“When they didn’t find him until the last episode, I’ll admit, I thought he’d died too!”, Braham Horton cuts in cheerfully. “But would you look at his little lonely island lair - now that’s a fulfilled man, and too many coconuts for my taste! We’ve had to blur his hands out as he discovered the cameras just moments before these holos were taken, unfortunately. And, dear viewer, who could forget this exit-interview for the ages!”

A considerably more clothed Thire appears on screen, eyeing a microphone like he’s about to use it to stab out his own eyes. The reporter clears their throat in audible anxiety. “C-commander, how would you describe your reality experience in one word?”

“Demeaning”, says Thire, blandly.

Silence.

“Um, o-okay”, squeaks the reporter.

“Would you like some more words?”, asks a dead-eyed Thire.

“No, um, I think - I think we’re alright.”

“Because I have many words. Mostly for whoever the *bleep* thought this was a *bleep* good idea, and *bleeeeeeee-*”

“We’ve had to censor most of the Commander’s on-screen appearance, dear viewer, for your sensibilities”, says Braham Horton, eternally and painfully cheerful. “And speaking of sensibilities, who could forget Commander Stone honouring his name in several challenges on ‘I’m A Holostar - Get Me Out Of Here!’”

Soulful violin music fills the gym, overlaid with images of a bald vod Cody surmises must be Stone. Stone stares stonily into the void, glass of bright green something raised to his lips and already half-empty.

“Memorably, he downed a pint of acklay urine within seconds-“

Horrified screams are followed by an image of Stone chewing, yet another thousand-klick stare.

“- or when he ate Tauntaun anus -“

Rex doubles over gagging, and Cody slowly puts his handful of Spopcorn back down.

“- of course the ten minute worm-bath challenge cannot go unmentioned -“

“FORCE PLEASE NO!”, screams someone (Echo) tearfully. Commander Stone, buried to the chin in wiggling orange worms, looks less impressed.

“ - and who could forget his encounter with a horde of ginntho spiders and nests of vexis snakes!”

A remote goes sailing past the screen, missing by a mile, as images of Stone with his whole arm stuck in various boxes fly past. Someone is retching. It might be Cody.

“We would show the infamous butchery challenge wherein the Commander found himself drenched in nexu guts and sandworm brains, but once again, this is family friendly programming and we are not allowed. Nevertheless, a win well-deserved. And now, please welcome the one, the only, the awe-inspiring, the unbelievable: Marshall Commander Fox!”

Another Force-awful jingle, big, blocky letters, and Cody chokes on his own spit when Fox’s scowling face appears on screen. He’s thinner, greyer and angrier than the last time they saw eachother in person. Only the last one is really a surprise.

“I am neither naked nor afraid”, says Fox, arms crossed firmly, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “I am, however, quickly losing my patience. Explain to me again the point of spending my valuable time undressing in the middle of bum-*bleep* nowhere on the Midrim instead of doing my job as the head of planetary security in the middle of a Galaxy-wide war?”

Several beats of silence follow. Fox grows less impressed with each. Cody knows that look well. Usually, it precedes handcuffs and a cold sonic blast to the face.

“Um… you signed a contract?”, says a producer’s voice uncertainly off-screen. Fox barks out a harsh laugh. “I’m legally classified as military property, my signature holds less weight than if I’d had one of the Guard’s massiffs shit on that contract for me.”

“Ouch!”, calls Crys.

“Gettim!”, adds Longshot.

“But… don’t you sign off military documents all the time for the Senate?”, sputters the producer.

Fox smiles with far to many teeth. It’s also a look Cody knows far too well, and even lightyears away it has a shudder going down his spine.

“Really makes you think about the technicalities of that definitely-not-slave-army, doesn’t it?”, he says, dryly.

“Although considerably less naked and afraid than all other contestants, Commander Fox left us with many memorable moments - such as when he saved the entire crew from an angry Acklay!”

Most of the next holovid is blurred out, though Cody can (unfortunately) guess at the why and how. So can most everyone else, judging by the collective groan.

“Down, boy”, says Fox, flatly, to a hissing Acklay twice his size. It rears its fanged head, and a shudder goes through the room. Fox simply crosses his arms and nails the beast with an unimpressed look. “You are making a fool of both of us. Cut it out.”

Chastised, the Acklay blinks at him, slowly lowering itself back down with a confused hiss.

“No kriffing wonder all the Corrie shinies are such hardasses”, mutters Rex, whom Cody is hard pressed to agree with. “I came from a tube and that look gave me daddy issues.”

“Yes, dear viewer, who could forget these heart-warming moments of good, quality television!”, sighs Braham Horton, dreamily. “Not Coruscant anytime soon, that’s for sure! We are now entering the twentieth rotation of the sit-in protest of a petition to allow the Commanders of the Coruscant Guard to compete on Dancing With The Planets, Coruscant Rotational’s epic dance competition!”

“Dear bum-kriffing Force”, whispers Rex, wide-eyed and awe-struck. “Does Fox know about this?!”

Cody, who’s already dialing the kriffer’s comm-code, wipes a singular tear from his eye. “Not a clue, but kriff, am I going to enjoy telling him.”

#sw tcw fic idea #spopcorn: space popcorn #commander cody #captain rex #commander fox #commander thorn #commander stone #commander thire #inspired by a quality month of quality destressing with quality tv #and the fact that i keep putting off booking therapy probably #corrie guard deserves better #they deserve trash reality tv in fact #braham horton the coruscant rotational host #he has his own chitter show which is the only one padme will agree to go on #she’s a simple woman. let her get sloshed and talk shit fashion and radical leftism your honor #i wanted thire to have more fun but he didn’t wanna #not shown but featured in my head: nuisance on geordie shore grids on love is blind and stabby on come dine with me #they shoot in the corrie mess hall and serve rations bcs that’s the only thing they get #everyone is so horrified by the quality of said rations it kicks off half the protests at least #this is too long and too insane to truly unleash unto yall but have it anyways #no i have no excuse except i am not sleeping and the voices are telling me to write this #somehow this results in palpatine being lynched by an angry mob of reality tv fans #which both results in the galaxy being saved and fox fucking losing it because somehow that’s worse than before #i didn’t proofread any of this as you can very obviously tell

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nyoomfruits · 1 month ago

Text

osctober day ten

prompt: mistake pairing: carlos/oscar word count: 1k a/n: continuation of osctober day six

Oscar had called it a mistake, when he’d first found out him and Carlos were soulmates.

But he accepted the hoodie. And all of the courting gifts after that, so like. They were working on it. It was starting to feel less like a mistake, maybe.

But now. Standing in the middle of his kitchen at 5 in the morning, Oscar is willing to loop back to mistake.

“Why,” he says, too tired to actually voice it as a question.

“Morning, my love,” Carlos says, flitting through the kitchen at a speed that was way too speedy for five in the morning. He’s also not wearing any pants, only a pair of boxers and a hoodie that is very clearly Oscar’s and it’s terribly distracting. Between the arms that are clearly visible between the strained fabric of Oscar’s hoodie that is definitely a size too small for him and the thighs on display, Oscar is struggling to stay on topic.

“C’mon, Carlos, we talked about the ‘my love’ thing,” Oscar says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes too, for good measure. Not being able to see the arms and the thighs does help with the focusing on the issue a little. The issue being that it is five in the fucking morning.

“Hm,” Carlos says, and then. “Pancakes?”

Pancakes were very tempting. But again. 5am. “Only if you tell me why we are awake.”

Carlos pauses in the middle of the kitchen, turns to him slowly. Now stationary, Oscar gets the full view of the sleep mussed hair and the bare thighs and the fucking arms. How is this man real. “It’s uh. There’s a full moon tonight?”

Even though half awake and fully distracted by the gorgeous man in front of him, Oscar’s getting a feeling that’s not the whole story. “I guess? I mean we do have those every month or so.”

Carlos looks troubled now. He still looks unfairly sexy about it. Oscar would like to kiss him. Which is a thing he can do now, but also. Doesn’t feel like the right timing, with the way Carlos is frowning at him. But god. He would really like to kiss him right about now. “It’s the first full moon of the Spring season.” Carlos clarifies, slowly.

“Right,” Oscar says. “Okay. Still do not know what that has to do with 5am.” Oscar wonders if there’s whipped cream to go along with the pancakes. Wonders if it would be weird if he asked Carlos if he could lick the whipped cream off of his thighs, later.

“We’ve been courting for half a year?” Carlos asks, once again not saying what he actually wants to say.

“Carlos can you just,” Oscar pinches the bridge of his nose again. “Stop dancing around it. Just tell me why we’re here at 5am on the day of the first full moon of Spring.”

“I thought you knew,” Carlos says. “It’s tradition.”

Oscar smiles a little wryly. “I think we’ve established I’m a little rusty on tradition,” he says. There was that whole debacle when they just started courting where he gave the cake Carlos made him – a courting gift – to Lando, because well. Lando had been craving cake. Apparently very not done. Took them weeks of miscommunicating to get that whole show back on the road again.

“Ah,” Carlos says, looking troubled. And pretty. Pretty troubled. “It is where you confirm your intentions. If you go out with me on the full moon tonight, it means you have accepted my courting and we can start becoming, uh.” He glances at the floor, then shifts his gaze somewhere right behind Oscar. “Mates.”

Mates. Soulmates. The whole purpose of this courting process. The whole reason they’re here.

“Oh,” Oscar wheezes out, suddenly having trouble breathing. He’d only just gotten used to the courting thing, and now he was supposed to make the commitment to. To.

It’s not like he doesn’t want any of that. He. He’s really started to like Carlos. He’s passionate. Caring. A great kisser. Fantastic thighs. But he doesn’t know. Mating is for life. Forever. What if he’s not ready for that yet?

Carlos bites at his lip. “It is okay, if you are not ready. We can wait.”

And Oscar knows, if he says he needs time right now, Carlos will give it to him. Carlos will give him anything he desires, anything he wants, anything he doesn’t even know he wants yet, because it’s very clear, above all else, that Carlos loves him. And not because the universe told them they were mates. Because he likes Oscar. For Oscar.

Suddenly he realizes it’s not the forever he’s scared of. It’s not Carlos he’s scared of. It’s the idea that Carlos might change his mind. That Carlos finds out who Oscar really is and goes ‘actually, never mind’ and splits.

But Carlos won’t. Carlos has made his choice, which is clear by the fact that he’s out here, at 5am, preparing for the full moon that will allow them to move forward with their courting, allow them to mate. Clear by the fact that he’s been courting Oscar for months, even when Oscar screwed it up, even when Oscar was less than enthused about the whole thing in the beginning.

Carlos stuck by him from day one. He’s not going anywhere. And suddenly. Suddenly, Oscar doesn’t want him to.

“What if. What if I. What if I do want to? Go out with you tonight?” He asks, bites at his lip.

“Oh,” Carlos says, clearly trying to hide his excitement. But it’s there, bubbling under the surface. “Well. Then we just. Go out tonight.”

“Then I guess,” Oscar takes a deep breath. Forever. “Then I guess I would really like to accompany you during the full moon tonight.”

Carlos is on him and pressing him against the kitchen counter before he can fully realize what’s happening, kissing him hard yet soft, desperate yet tender. They’ve kissed before, but nothing like this. It’s like Carlos is finally letting go of his worries, of his apprehension, giving himself fully to Oscar.

And Oscar will take all of him. Forever.

(Though he would love to start with some pancakes. And maybe an explanation of why the fuck they had to do this at 5am when the sun doesn’t set and the moon doesn’t rise until like 8pm tonight.)

#carcar #osctober 2024 #drabble

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drytacomeat · 4 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 2

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 plus size!𝐟em!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐦𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧), 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡

Enjoy

(reblogs much appreciated)

part one here

The guilt was eating you up.

Not in a “I watched my two closest friends fuck on live and invaded their privacy” way but in a “I want to watch all of their other content even though I know it’s wrong” kind of way.

After about a week and a half, Eddie and Steve figured you weren’t sick or even busy. They knew something was up with you, but they could not figure out what.

Both of the boy’s cared for you deeply, and your presence was greatly missed. Eddie found himself just moping in bed, aimlessly plucking at his guitar strings while Steve had baked the entire kitchen full.

Their streaming schedule even became thrown off, only down to one stream per week instead of their regular three.

They were grieving their friendship with you because they just did not know what they could have done to make you suddenly so distant.

Steve proposed that you might be seeing someone new and didn’t want them in your business.

Though he proposed the possibility, it made his heart hurt to think about.

Eddie decided it was possible and fair, but he couldn’t help but wish it weren’t true.

You were one of the only people who understood and accepted him no matter what. He didn’t want to lose you. He cursed himself for never speaking up about his feelings.

Hell, if Steve didn’t make a move, he wouldn’t have ever told him how he felt.

Frankly, the boy felt like a coward, and he felt like he was getting the short end of the stick in all of this.

Of course he knew how much Steve liked you as well, but he was better with rejection and acceptance.

So here were Eddie and Steve laying in bed after filming a scene. Though Eddie tended to be the more dominant one, Steve was always more than happy to give him extra aftercare.

He needed it more, especially now. Steve stroked his hair as he sighed loudly.

“Eddie…” Steve began.

“There’s just no way, right? I mean…I thought she liked you at least,” he started.

“Eddie.”

“You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Steve. She, fuck, I can see it in her eyes she wants to fuck you,” he huffed.

“You’re handsome too, Eddie. I always figured she had a crush on you, y’know. Felt out of place until…I didn’t,” he smiled then frowned.

“We gotta do something. We gotta go talk to her, Steve!” he perked up.

“Is that not what we’ve been trying to do all week?”

“Yeah, but we left when she asked us to last time,” he said as he bit his lip in thought, “How about we give her one more week to come to her senses. If she doesn’t, we will not leave her doorstep until we get some fucking answers.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous plan, though he knew it might very well work.

“Hey, don’t give me that fucking look. I miss her. I miss my y/n.”

•••

Sure enough, you avoided them for the entirety of the week they gave you.

Time had passed by dreadfully slow for all of you, but Eddie now had a plan. He planned to execute it too now that he’s found out from Robin that you had been going in to work regularly for the past two weeks. So you were, in fact, not sick. All that was left to do now was convince Steve to follow through.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve started, “We are to go to her home, bang on her door, and “demand” she let us in?”

Eddie, who was biting nails as he faced away from Steve, turned around dramatically.

“Yes!”

“What if she just doesn’t, though?”

“Well, I figure you’re sporty right?“ he shrugged. “Big strong muscles and all that.”

“So if she doesn’t let us in, you want me to force my way in?”

“Exactly!”

“Eddie.”

“Look, it’s going to work. It has to,” he sighed.

“But this feels kinda wrong,” Steve reasoned.

“Does it?” he dragged out as he squinted.

“Yes.” Steve responded sternly.

He just yanked his jacket from the couch and pulled Steve along.

“Let’s go!”

•••

Three knocks were heard at your door. It was seven at night, but it was still pretty bright out. You figured it could have been the same kid who asks you to buy girl scout cookies every single day at sunset.

You flung open the door.

“Look Abby, I can’t afford to keep buy-,” you cut yourself off. “Oh.”

Eddie and Steve stood on your doorstep looking more nervous than you had ever seen them before.

“Uhm guys, I’m sick,” you said before fake coughing, hoping they’d still believe it.

“Cut the bullshit, Y/n. Robin told us you’ve been going to work every day this week, and you took no days off last week either,” Steve spoke. “You’re ignoring us.”

“No, no! It’s just-“

“Just be honest with us! Are you seeing someone!” Eddie blurted.

“Uhm? What! No! Why?” you replied as you unconsciously opened your door more.

“Well, you’ve been ignoring us for weeks!” he continued urgently.

You sighed and opened the door more.

“Come in.”

Steve and Eddie scrambled in awkwardly. They both stood with their hands awkwardly in their pockets, shoulders touching.

You stood with your mouth folded inward, awkward as well.

Steve decided to speak up.

“Why’ve you been ignoring us, Y/n?” Steve started, “I mean, if you aren’t seeing anyone, I see no valid reason for essentially ghosting us.”

Your mouth gaped. You were at a loss for words.

“Are you…did we do something wrong? You can tell us, or you can at least tell me,” Eddie sympathized as he stepped closer to you.

“Eddie, it’s not-“

“Was it me then?” Steve spoke up, insecurity plaguing his tone.

“Steve, no,” you said as you looked towards Steve with pleading eyes.

“Then what is it!” Eddie found his voice escalating.

“Please, Y/n. Please just say some-“

“I saw your livestream!” you blurted due to the heat of the burning questions.

Both of the boy’s faces fell, color draining from them. Eddie backed towards Steve before looking at him in panic, then back to you.

“Uhm, how long-which one did you, uhm, see?” Eddie asked nervously, not able to meet your eyes.

“Look, I’ve only seen one. It was like a week ago, sometime early in the week. I don’t know,” you sighed.

Their eyes widened more as they fully turned to look at each other now.

“Look, I don’t judge you guys or anything,” you rushed, “I just saw it, and I felt like I just invaded your privacy. I’m sorry, and I completely support your relationship, whatever that may be.”

Steve’s brows raised, and Eddie stood there silent and frozen.

You had no chance to read anything from their expressions, but your chest was clenching. You were lying through your teeth because this hurt like hell. You had been confirmed that they were seeing each other in some sort of way, and despite the little piece of you that wanted to believe they were longing for you, you just figured it was time to be rational with yourself.

Eddie scanned Steve’s eyes for any discomfort because though he loved you so much, he also loved Steve. He knew Steve deserved to have his feelings considered in this situation as well.

Steve gave a small nod towards Eddie causing Eddie to sigh. Eddie turned back towards you, stepping closer and grabbing your hand loosely.

“Did you like it?” Eddie asked just above a mumble.

You were taken aback. You rapidly blinked as you tried to think of an answer. Steve shot a small half-smile in your direction.

“I mean, I guess? Is that okay?” you spoke.

The room was stark silent again, and you began to fidget.

“Yes, that’s okay!” Eddie accidentally shouted. “That’s so okay.”

“Perfect even,” Steve chimed in and you let out the breath you had not known you had been holding.

“So how long have you guys been…”

“Well, me and Steve have been “involved” since about his senior year of highschool,” Eddie began as he went to sit on your couch, Steve following suit.

“What?” you questioned, genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, I mean it was just that I bought weed from him at school, then it progressed from me buying weed to smoking with him, then I would hang out at his house, so on and so forth. We became friends yada yada. I realized I liked him, so I went for it. It was already rumored he was a queer,” Steve explained. You just nodded along because this was something Eddie kept from you for a long time. Longer than you thought.

“Yeah, I turned him gay,” Eddie smiled.

“So you both are gay?” you asked in shock because Eddie had never told you this, and now you felt delusional for thinking either of them had feelings towards you. You unconsciously bit your lip and looked away as tears welled in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid and oblivious.

“Well, no,” Eddie spoke up, “We aren’t completely gay.”

“Oh,” you murmured trying to sound as normal as you could.

“Yeah,” Steve said and looked to Eddie who gave him a small smile before turning back in your direction, “We’re not completely gay. I’m bisexual I think it’s called and Eddie is…well he’s just Eddie. See that’s where you come in, babe.”

Steve smiled nervously at you, and Eddie was now fiddling with his hair (something he only did when he was really nervous.)

You slowly turned your head back in the boy’s direction as Steve continued.

“So I know I’m not completely gay because I’ve liked girls, and I actually like one right now. Eddie also is not gay because…well he’s in love with you.”

Your brows raised as every stage of grief went through you, visibly. Eddie was at the edge of the couch, legs bouncing nervously while Steve sat with a face of utter confidence.

“I-but-you-dating?” you stumbled out pointing back and forth towards the two of them.

“Yeah we kinda are, but if I’m being honest, Eddie has probably loved you way before he started liking me,” Steve chuckled.

“What? For how long, Eddie?” you said as your brows furrowed. Eddie who usually had a big mouth was now sat silent.

“I’d probably say since you both were like little babies from the way he talks abo-,” Steve looked at Eddie who now stared at him with wide eyes, “Uhm, I’ll let him talk now.”

“Eddie?” you spoke softly, “I…is this true?”

“I-yes. Yes it’s true. I’ve loved you since, fuck, since I met you. You remember those little fuckers were hassling you because they thought you ate their little fruit snacks, but then I told them I did it,” he cracked a smile.

“Yeah and shared them with me when we got put in time out. I remember,” you smiled as you looking into his eyes, subconsciously scooting closer to the both of them.

“I love you, Y/n. I really do.”

You smiled at him until you remembered Steve was sitting right beside him and that you had very strong feelings for him as well.

“But what about you two? You can’t love me and be dating someone else, Ed. Right?” you asked as you looked towards Steve.

“Right, about that, look Steve has always known I’ve loved you. It’s just that over time as we hung out, we began to like each other on a more intimate level. Honestly, he asked me out, and I would have never even tried to ask him out. That’s how it was with you. If it weren’t for Steve, I would be passing up two of the greatest things to ever happen in my life. I told Steve that I loved you, and that I could see myself loving him,” he explained.

“Yes and I was okay with that. From the beginning, I always knew. I’ve always noticed you to be honest, Y/n. You stood out to me as well as Eddie. I wanted to get to know you too,” Steve smiled.

You felt so overwhelmed with emotions. This was so much to take in and so suddenly. You’d loved Eddie for the majority of your life, and you were beginning to love Steve. You felt your chances with either one of them was already just too good to be true, but now you had both of them confessing to you.

“Oh I…Eddie I love you too,” you smiled, “and Steve, I like you so much. The way I felt about you both is so strong it’s actually physically aggravating. I knew you two were involved even before I found your streams, and I just backed off. Figured it would be easier to deal with. It’s selfish, but I couldn’t imagine being without the either of you,” you chuckled.

“Not selfish at all, honey,” Steve reassured, “Honestly, I think Eddie here should’ve spoken up a long time ago. Pussy.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he retaliated and shoved Steve.

“Okay before you start bickering like children, I do a have question,” you interrupted.

“What’s that, pretty?” Eddie smiled.

“The streaming thing…how long have you been doing that?” you asked genuinely curious. You’d noticed when Eddie started to buy more expensive things, but you doubt that’s when things started up for them.

“Well honestly…right after graduation. I mean I was 20 and fresh out of highschool. Not too many options for me out there in the world, so I started steaming. Steve’s parents kind of threw him out a few months after that and was couch hopping really, but after a while I told him what I did for money. That’s when he joined, and our audience grew, as well as our bank accounts. Now we have a home that we both can feel safe in. And we get to have hot, hot sex to pay the bills,” he smirked. Steve shoved him.

“So, what are you thinking?” Steve asked.

You shook your head in silence, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, you idiots?”

Eddie couldn’t help but crack a large smile and shook his head.

“I don’t know because we’re stupid maybe. I do know that I really want to fucking kiss you right now, though.”

“Oh! Okay. Yeah, yes!” you rambled.

Eddie smiled towards you bringing his hands up to cup your face in his hands. Your gaze fell down to him lips before you leaned in. His lips were eager against yours, kiss sloppy and passionate at the same time.

You brought your fingers up to his hair, tugging loosely eliciting a moan from him. You remembered their stream and how big of a slut Eddie seemed for it.

You pulled away quite suddenly, wanting to admire the boy’s flushed face. His lips were slightly red and wet, still puckering.

You guided his face to the side so that you could see Steve’s expression from his spot on the couch.

“C’mere, pretty boy,” you commanded softly. The boy scooted closer to the two of you and you cupped his chin lightly before grazing your thumb over his bottom lip.

You slowly leaned into him. The kiss you two shared was slow and soft, more organized.

“Wanted to kiss you since I met you,” Steve admitted.

“I always want to kiss you, Y/n. Fuck it’s so stupid now to think, but we used to do these little things in our streams in hopes that you would see them and- fuck it’s so stupid. You’ve always been right here, and I’ve always just been a coward,” Eddie said shamefully.

You quickly swooped in to now cup his face, “Eddie, if anyone was the coward, it was me. I had two boys in front of me that I felt absolutely crazy about, and I did nothing about it because of my own insecurities. You’re brave, Ed. Both of you are. You share your most intimate moments to hundreds and thousands of people every week. That’s hot and really fucking brave.”

Eddie nodded with a smile on his face.

“I want to fuck you, and I want you to fuck Steve. I…it’s all I find myself thinking about,” he admitted. You smiled towards him as you pet his hair.

“You alright with that, Steve?” you asked out of concern. You wanted to make sure Steve was on board with everything as well. Poor boy didn’t deserve to ever feel left out.

“Fuck, yes! Have you seen our streams? Pretty sure I beg for it more than Eddie does.”

“So the “mommy” thing…you like that more than Eddie here too or what?” you teased.

“I-“

Steve’s cheeks blushed a deep red.

“Aw, look at that. Stevie wants you to be his mommy,” Eddie pouted sarcastically.

“Shut the fuck up, Eddie,” Steve gritted out. You pouted towards the boy.

“Aw, none of that honey. Be a good boy for mommy, hm?” you reached out to cradle his chin in your hand.

Steve visibly softened and nodded.

“Eddie, kiss him to make up for being a bully,” you commanded suddenly, now beginning to grow into the dominant role. You also just really wanted to see them kiss.

Eddie quickly moved over towards Steve. He hovered over him before leaning down to press a hot kiss onto the boy’s lips.

He absolutely ravished the boy. You could feel the hunger they had for each other in the air, and it made you throb.

Eddie crawled onto his lap in a haste, hands traveling from Steve’s perfectly styled hair down to his chest.

Steve wrapped his arms around the boy’s torso before reaching to remove his shirt. Eddie quickly yanked it over his own head and moved on to removing Steve’s shirt.

You could feel your arousal pool in your panties it seemed.

Eddie began to grind down onto Steve’s lap, and light moans escaped Steve’s mouth.

You decided now was the time to interrupt.

“Alright, Eddie. Don’t hog all the fun,” you smirked as you sat beside Steve, “Mommy deserves to have fun too. Right, Steve?”

Steve nodded adoringly as he stared up at you. Eddie moved from his lap and began sloppily kissing over the boy’s shoulder and chest.

“Want you on me, mommy,” he whined as he tugged you onto him, “Want you here so bad. Always want you.”

“Steve,” you chuckled, “I’m too heavy for that, love.”

Steve eyed you then looked over towards Eddie before shaking his head and giggling. He pulled you down onto him suddenly and positioned you to a more comfortable position.

“See, baby. Not too heavy for big, strong Stevie,” Eddie smiled and placed a peck to your lips.

“Now, I don’t think that Eddie and I should be the only ones half naked.” Steve smiled up at you.

You sighed and nodded softly. You’ve slept with a few people, but this was so different. This felt much more intimate and exposing. You trusted these boys with your life, but you still couldn’t help but think that they might judge you.

You decided to swallow your nerves and fully give into the dominant persona.

“I’ll decide when I take anything off,” you scolded as you yanked Steve back by his hair, “Understand?”

Steve nodded as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

You let him go and pulled off your t-shirt, leaving you in your lounging bra. You did not expect them to be coming over or for that to lead to fucking.

You threw you shirt off to the side and gulped.

“So sexy, mommy,” Eddie groaned.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. You reached out to pull Eddie into a hot kiss.

Steve ground you down onto his lap, and you could feel that he was hard through his jeans. He was so easy. You couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss you shared with Eddie.

“Hard already?” you joked. He nodded up at you, doe eyes wide. “Okay, pants off.”

You stood up as you watched them scramble to get their pants off. Eddie was the first to shimmy his down his legs, black boxers covering him. Though Steve was quick to unbuckle his pants, he hesitated before pulling them down.

“Hey, you okay with this, Steve?” you asked him, concern written all over your face.

“Uhm, yeah. Just that I’m…I’m not wearing boxers…” he smiled nervously.

“Going commando?” you smiled.

He looked uneasy, and when you looked over towards Eddie, he was just wearing a proud smug.

He shook his head.

“Oh,” you gasped as you realized, “Oh.”

Steve nodded before another nervous smile plastered across his face.

“Well, take off your pants, Steve. Lemme see,” you smiled widely.

He gulped before shimmying out of the tight jeans. They always made his ass look so good, you couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like bare and in real life.

Under his pants were white, lacy briefs.

“Tuh,” you let out and propped yourself onto one leg.

Steve still looked visibly nervous, so you smiled towards him, then towards Eddie.

“Eddie,” you started, “Give ‘em a lil kiss to make him feel better.”

Eddie wasted no time hopping onto Steve’s lap. He began grinding down onto the boy as they kissed messily again. Steve wrapped his arms around the small of Eddie’s back, and groaned into the kiss.

You couldn’t help but trail your fingers down to your underwear to rub over your aching clit at the scene. You couldn’t even think about shame at this point.

Eddie pulled away from Steve and turned back towards you. He pecked Steve’s lips before getting off of his lap and directing you onto the couch.

You sat down, letting out a heavy sigh as he crawled over you and began to kiss down your neck. Steve who sat to the right of you began to leave soft, sensual kisses down your shoulders and arms as Eddie kissed down your chest.

He massaged your right breast before letting out a groan.

“Such pretty titties, baby. I love ‘em. Always wanted to tell you, I was always lookin’ at em. Fuck,” he murmured and pulled your boob out so that it was spilling out over your bra. He quickly latched onto your nipple, moaning at the taste of your skin.

You can’t help but moan at the sudden attention to your breasts. They weren’t all that sensitive, but the scene itself made your body twitch.

He flicked his tongue over the hardening nipple as he stared up into your eyes.

“So pretty, Eddie,” you smiled down towards the boy. He looked over to Steve and guided his head towards the nipple that was previously in his mouth.

Steve moaned around your nipple.

Eddie began kissing down your body. He placed multiple kisses over your large tummy, seemingly kissing every stretch mark that lingered the skin.

His hands splayed across your stomach.

As he got down to where your panties rested upon your wide hips, he looked up towards you as he placed slow kisses along your lower stomach.

He used his teeth to pull at the elastic waist band before allowing it to snap back onto your skin.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from

your mouth as Steve decided to teasingly bite down on your nipple.

Eddie continued leaving teasing kisses around your lower stomach and hips. You began to lose your patience.

“Won’t you hurry things alone, please?” you said demandingly albeit breathlessly.

Eddie smiled mischievously up towards you, “Anything for you, baby.”

He slowly moved the cotton underwear down your legs, slowly revealing your throbbing wetness, hidden away underneath your hair there.

Eddie had grown impatient as more of you were revealed and quickly yanked the panties on down your legs.

Once they were fully off, he pried your legs open and rested his head on your left thigh.

You had no time to be insecure over the fact that you had a steady growing bush down there because as soon as he was settled, Eddie breathed in your scent as he unconsciously bit his lip. He could feel his mouth pooling from the salivating he was doing.

He breathed you in, “Smell so good. I could sit here forever and just breathe you in. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this.”

He placed kisses onto your thighs and outer lips, tugging at your pubic hairs as well.

You were growing restless, and Steve could sense that. He had moved back up from your chest now, stroking your cheek and pressing light kisses to it.

“Stevie, you gotta get down here. Smell so good, not fair of me to have it all to myself, right?”

Steve smiled at you as he nodded. He moved down your body, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, chest, and stomach before he settled on his knees alongside Eddie.

Eddie pulled him into an urgent kiss before pulling your legs farther apart and directing his head in the direction of the sopping pussy sitting in front of them.

Your chest was heaving in impatience. Eddie was petting Steve’s hair as he sweet talked him.

“Look at that fat pussy. So pretty. You ever seen a pussy that pretty, Steve? I sure as hell haven’t,” he groaned.

“Mm mm, prettiest pussy I’ve ever set my eyes on,” he responded.

You were now so turned on that you contemplated smothering one of them into your wet heat.

“If one of you don’t get to eating my pussy right now, I’m getting up and fucking my damn self,” you sassed.

Their eyes widened at the sudden outburst and Eddie smiled.

“Hm, I suppose we wouldn’t want that. Steve, why don’t you get the first taste? I know you’re great with your tongue,” Eddie explained, “Made me cum just by eating my ass. Talented little mouth.”

Meanwhile, Steve was turning bright red. The act of eating another man’s ass was already so taboo, and to have Eddie just outright admit to it made him feel a tad shameful.

You smiled down at the boy who looked a bit uneasy. You thumbed at his cheek before guiding his head towards your pussy, “I’ll have to be the judge of that now won’t I?”

Steve gave a nervous smile and leaned in. He felt odd. He was a pro at eating pussy, it was his specialty after all. He was never nervous about his performance, yet this felt different.

He swallowed his nerves before wetting his lips. He looked up towards you as he sensually spread your plump outer lips and inched towards your swollen clit.

He gave it a small lick before sucking it into his mouth. You could barely see him over the plushness of your stomach, but that didn’t matter because as soon as he created suction around your clit, your head was thrown back and moans were spewing from your mouth.

Eddie caressed your thigh as he pet Steve’s hair.

“Doing so good, huh? Making mommy feel so good?” he praised, “Yeah, eat that pussy, baby.”

Eddie was gripping onto your thigh tightly as Steve was swirling his tongue around your clit. He dipped his tongue down towards your dripping hole before licking back up the entirety of your cunt.

The surplus of sensations caused you to grab Eddie’s hand to ground yourself.

“Want you too, Eddie. Want you to eat me,” you breathed out. Eddie smiled up at you.

“Your wish, my command.”

You couldn’t help but cringe at the corny statement. Steve even pulled away from you to scold Eddie.

“Really, bro?”

“Shut up,” he retaliated and dove into your pussy suddenly.

He flicked his tongue up and down your clit before sucking down on it. He pulled off with a pop and placed a soft kiss to it.

“Taste better than I ever imagined,” he hummed. “I mean, eating ass is great, but pussy just, mmph. Especially mommy’s pussy, right Steve?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, “So pretty too. Everything about you is just gorgeous.”

Your chest was heaving as you looked down at the two loves of your life.

“Okay, okay. Enough with the flattery. Back to making me cum.”

Eddie smirked and dove right in. Steve, being the competitive boy he was, spread your legs even wider, nudging himself into place.

Both of the boys took turns swiping at your clit. The scene was so erotic that you couldn’t help picking up your phone to snap a picture of the boys going to town on your cunt.

“Sharing so well. So good for m-mommy,” you spoke brokenly. “Fuck, ‘m close. Gonna make me cum.”

You threw your phone down as the boys sped up their collective motions.

Steve moved to completely suck your clit into his mouth. Just as Eddie was about to slide a finger into your aching hole, your legs began to twitch.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” you shouted as soon as Eddie managed to fit his entire middle finger into your cunt.

Steve continued is menstruations of slurping on your pussy. The sounds of the lewdness filled the room as he sucked you through your orgasm.

Your body let out a final twitch before you slumped completely back on the couch, pushing Steve’s head away as he was beginning to overstimulate you.

You laid there, chest heaving as you seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

Eddie and Steve climbed up towards where you were laid back, and they began pressing comforting kisses to your chubby cheeks.

Eddie, being the dumbass he is, sucked a large portion of your cheek into his mouth before letting go.

“Aw, Eddie! What the fuck,” you groaned and went to wipe your cheek.

“Dude?” Steve spoke up.

“What? You want a kissy too?” he teased. Steve huffed, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This caused your thigh to rub up against Steve, more specifically, his hard dick.

“Mmph,” he let out. You flinched a little but quickly realized he was so sensitive because he had not cum yet.

You quickly reached out to caress his cheek and pouted at him, “Aw, poor baby. You still need to get off, don’t you?”

He nodded, giving you his best doe eyes before he panted a quick “yes” out.

You turned over completely to face Steve, unconsciously giving Eddie full access to your ass.

“Here, let’s get you outta’ these,” you spoke as you went to tug Steve’s briefs down so that they were just under his balls that sat heavy and taut.

You admired the boy’s length. It was a blushing pink color that, oddly enough, matched the color of his nipples exactly.

You gripped the length and dipped your finger into the tip.

“You’re leaking,” you smiled as string of the pre connected your finger to the tip as you pulled it away.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, already blissed out. He looked down at you with lidded eyes. You brought your hand up to your mouth to spit into it, then you wrapped it around Steve’s dick, giving it two experimental strokes.

“Feel good?”

Steve nodded rapidly.

“Good.”

Eddie was groping the fat of your thighs and trailing his hands up your large tummy before he ended up squeezing your tits in hand.

You continued to stroke Steve, steadily picking up the pace. The boy let out airy little sounds in your ear as his eyes fluttered shut, and he took in the softness of your hands as opposed to Eddie’s usual rough ones.

“So pretty, Stevie,” you complimented, “Isn’t he pretty, Eddie?”

“Eh, he’s alright. What about me, baby? Am I pretty?” he asked as he went to grip the entirety of your fat cunt in his hand.

You gasped at the lewd act before moaning from the sensitivity.

“You’re pretty too, Ed. So pretty and sexy,” you said breathily as you felt the boy’s fingers rub over your clit and begin to prod at your hole.

You turned your attention back to Steve to speed up jerking his dick.

“So good” you whispered just as Eddie slid one finger into you. “Fuck, so good.”

“So tight. Mommy’s so tight, Steve. Would think this was a virgin pussy if I didn’t know any better,” Eddie smiled against your skin as he began to finger you rougher, adding a second finger. “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby. Can I? Please? Need my dick in you. Need to feel you, make you mine.”

Something about those words triggered you, made you almost insatiable.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. Wanna feel you, Ed.”

You took your hand off of Steve’s throbbing cock and pushed away from him so that you could be lying on your back again. You adjusted yourself on the couch so you were seated farther up.

“Want to look in your face while you fuck me.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

This was your first real look at Eddie’s dick. It was cute! He had his hairs neatly trimmed into the shape of bat. You couldn’t help but smile at that, and his dick was an angry red color as opposed to Steve’s pretty, pink one.

Steve sat up beside you, wrapping one hand around his cock and the other around your shoulder.

Eddie spread your fat outer lips apart to get a good look at your pussy.

“So fucking pretty, Mommy,” he smiled down at you as he went to rub his dick against the slickness of your cunt, repeatedly bumping your clit. “Nghn, fuck yeah.”

“Fuck, want to feel my dick in that warm pussy,” Steve rasped against your neck between kisses he began placing to help ground you.

“You’ll get your turn soon, Stevie,” you assured, “promise.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” Eddie slid the tip of his cock into you before stopping, “That good? Is it okay, Mommy?”

You nodded and pushed one of his curls that were dangling in his face behind his ear.

“So good, baby. Keep goin’.”

He nodded and continued to push his way into you. He was much more gentler with you than the other couple of guys you’d slept with. They all seemed to treat sex like a race to the finish line, forcing their way in almost, aimlessly thrusting into you, and not really giving a fuck about your pleasure after the initial foreplay.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he groaned and bit down on his bottom lip. As he bottomed out, he had to sit still for a moment and turn his focus to the ceiling because the feeling of the girl he loved wrapped tight and hot around his dick and you sitting there kissing his boyfriend as you took his dick was bound to make him cum before he wanted to.

“Take your time, Ed. I know how you get,” Steve smirked teasingly. The two just bantered so much, even in the middle of passionate sex.

“Steve, why don’t you fuck Eddie for Mommy? Don’t you want to stick your dick somewhere?” you smiled cheekily.

“Mm, he doesn’t deserve any fucking dick,” Steve mumbled into your neck.

“Fuck, if I didn’t have my dick in the girl of my dreams right now I swear I wou-“

You cut Eddie off with a warning slap to the cheek before you grabbed his chin and forced his attention onto you.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me like you mean it,” you gritted.

Eddie quickly closed his mouth and nodded. He placed his hands on the back of your couch for more leverage and began to fuck into you at a rougher, faster, more meaningful pace. You were very thankful that the boy was a musician and had rhythm.

“Steve,” you panted, “Get Eddie ready for your dick, or you won’t be cumming at all.

Your eyes held this sense of seriousness in them that turned Steve on beyond belief. He loved to be pushed around and told what to do, and while Eddie was pretty good at it, his demeanor often changed. He was very switchy to say the least.

Steve nodded and got up from his spot beside you to look for a packet of lube he knew Eddie kept in his wallet.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. I could cream this pussy right now,” Eddie groaned before leaning down to kiss you deeply. He attacked your tongue with his, saliva dripping down both your chins.

Steve settled behind the boy and ripped open the lube packet. He poured a bit of it on his fingers and rubbed them together to warm them up.

Without warning, he pulled Eddie’s cheeks apart and licked a long stripe from his balls to his hole.

Eddie faltered inside you a bit, causing him to go impossibly deeper. You whimpered at that before smiling up at the boy.

Steve held Eddie’s left cheek open before he went in with the two of his lubed fingers.

The sudden action made Eddie whimper loudly and slow down his thrusts into you.

“What the fuck, Steve?” he said in a very whiny tone.

You looked back towards Steve who was quickly moving his fingers in and out of Eddie. You smiled at his eagerness and directed your attention back to Eddie.

“His fingers feel good in your pussy, baby?” you cooed. “Bet they fucking do.”

Eddie whimpered as Steve added a third finger in.

“Fuck yes!”

Steve had gotten down on his knees behind the boy, watching the way his fingers rapidly entered and exited the boy’s pink, tight little hole.

“I can’t wait anymore, Eds,” he groaned, “Need to fuck this ass.”

Eddie nodded and stopped his movements inside you completely, allowing Steve to line his cock up with his hole.

“Ready, Ed?” he asked.

“Yes! Get your cock in me.” Steve wasted no time pushing in, quickly bottoming out.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling of fullness. He loved it so fucking much despite how often he topped Steve as opposed to bottoming.

“Feel too good, Eddie? Think Steve can start moving yet, or are you going to cum?” you fake pouted at the boy.

“Yes, yes! You can move, Steve. I won’t cum till you do, Mommy. Won’t cream this pussy until I make it cum,” he panted.

“Alright,” Steve huffed before he began pounding into Eddie, giving the boy absolutely no time to prepare.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie whimpered as he fell forward a bit. Steve’s hard thrusts made Eddie thrust into you.

He took a moment to breathe before he picked up his pace in you. His thrusts into you caused him to thrust back onto Steve harder.

He pried your pussy lips apart so that he could thumb at your clit.

“That feel good, pretty?” he asked as he circled your clit with the thumb.

You nodded at the pressure, making you get closer and closer to cumming yourself.  “Fuck yes,” you moaned and pulled Eddie into a hot, rushed kiss.

You looked up to see Steve staring down at the two of you, smirking.

“This is probably Eddie’s wet dream come true,” he smiled, “little perv probably been dreaming of this since high school.”

The admission of that was enough to make you clench hard around Eddie cock.

Steve rearranged himself so that he would be pressed up against Eddie’s g-spot with each rapid thrust.

Eddie was all whimpers now, fucking into you as quickly as his hips would let him so he could feel Steve’s heavy cock pressing into him harder and rougher.

“Make me cum, Eddie. Come on. I’m so fucking close!” you squealed as your thighs trembled.

Eddie replaced his thumb with his entire hand to rub across your clit quickly.

“Right there!” you shrieked as you clinched down around Eddie hard, cumming all over his cock.

Eddie kept thrusting into you as he was so close to cumming himself.

“Just a little more baby. J-just a little bit more for me, yeah?” he whimpered.

You let him continue to thrust into you, way too deep in pleasure to even think of stopping him despite your pussy being so sensitive.

Steve was gripping his hips tightly, probably leaving bruises as he watched the boy’s ass clap back onto his thighs.

“Fuck yeah, Eddie. Clenching so tight. Are you gonna cum? Cum in Mommy’s pussy!” he asked breathlessly, barely heard over the sound of their skin clapping together.

“Fuck! Cumming!” he shouted as Steve stroked particularly hard against his prostate. He came deep inside you, causing you to let out a little stream of squirt.

“Damn that’s fucking hot,” Eddie groaned as he thrust himself through his orgasm.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” you whined. “Out! No more. Too much!”

Steve pulled Eddie away from you as the boy was almost incapable of doing anything other than shaking like a leaf on top of you.

Steve pulled out of the boy’s hole, holding his cheeks open to watch it clinch and unclinch.

He laid Eddie beside you as he jerked his cock over the both of you.

“So hot, Stevie,” Eddie sighed sleepily.

“Cum for us, baby,” you smiled up at him before you leaned over to kiss Eddie.

You spread your legs again so that your puffy, used, and leaking cunt was on display to the boy.

Seeing Eddie’s cum leak out of your cunt ultimately made Steve cum. He angled his cock so that white, milky strings landed across your tummy and Eddie’s chest.

“Mmf,” he grunted as the final strings of cum left his dick.

His chest heaved as he plopped down onto the couch beside you both.

You all laid there, naked, sweaty, cummy messes.

“So…who wants to shower with, Mommy?”

Tbh this took sm time and was so rough to write. Writing threesomes IS NOT for the weak…so I definitely won’t be doing it anytime soon! Hope you guys liked it though.

Taglist: @emma-munson @user4837373 @paradisepoisons @thedoubleexposurephotography @palmtreesx3 @julesfromeuphoriaismyimaginarygf

#plus size reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #poc reader #sub eddie munson #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #sub steve harrington #mommy k!nk #chubby reader

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despacito-uwu16 · 4 months ago

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Instant Regret- Tadashi Hamada x Reader

“But I miss you, I’m sorry” - Gracie Abrams

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

You would think that no matter how big or small the arguments would get, that you would always find a way back to each other. But it really wasn’t the case for the two of you.

You’ve gotten a job opportunity at the company of your dreams. However, their office is ten thousand miles away from home. At first, you weren’t sure what to do. You built your life around getting into the company of your dreams, however you never prepared yourself for the day that you have to leave San Fransokyo. Not only that, you would be leaving Tadashi behind. But after a few days of hesitation, you decided to take the risk and go for it.

You and Tadashi were in your apartment watching your favorite TV show while eating Chinese take out. You couldn’t concentrate on the current episode of That 70’s Show because you didn’t know how to tell Tadashi about the job. If you tell him about it, he would for sure be supportive of it. Right? It’s not like he would just tell you to turn it down…

“Something wrong Y/N”? He snaps you out of your daze.

“No! Nothing’s wrong”. You quickly said.

“You sure? You barely touched your eggplant and tofu”. He pointed at your food with his chopsticks.

You look down at the take out box. It was barely half empty.

“I’m just not hungry”. You said, playing with your food.

“Y/N, if something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me”. Said Tadashi.

You look down at the food. “I guess it’s time”. You thought.

You put your food down and turned off the TV. You turned to him and gently held his hands.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you”. You confessed.

“Okay”. He turns to you. “You got my full attention”.

“Well, remember I told you about that job interview for that company I always wanted to work at”? You started.

He thought for a bit before replying. “The one with the virtual reality and AI research?”

You nodded.

“Well…” you sighed.

“I got the job”. You looked up at him giving him a small smile.

His eyes lit up and he started smiling ear to ear. “Y/N that’s amazing! See! I knew they would like you”! He hugged you tightly.

“Yeah. However, they want me to work at their London office”. You added.

Tadashi’s face fell as he let go of you. “Oh, I see”.

“I know, I promised I would stay, but I didn’t think they would relocate me. But hey, we’ve been through this before. Who said we couldn’t do it again ”. You said

“Yeah, yeah totally”. Tadashi looked at the ground.

You noticed his facial expression. It was a mix of sadness and disappointment. You knew that he wouldn’t approve of this.

“Did I say something wrong”? You ask.

“It’s nothing like that, it’s just”… he trailed off

“It’s just what”? You pressed on.

He let out a sigh before continuing “I had a plan for us to move in together after college. For us to start our life together”.

“I know this is a huge shift from what we’ve planned Tadashi. But this is my dream, you know I couldn’t just let this slip by”. You said in attempts to justify your reasons .

“What about us and everything we built”? He said, emphasizing on “us”.

“Well what about me? You knew how important this job and this company is to me”! You exclaimed

“Am I not important to you”? He asks

“You are, that’s not what I meant. I just thought you would be more supportive of me”.

“I was so supportive Y/N! I supported you when you went abroad for a semester, I supported when you had that 8 week internship over the summer! I was there for you through thick and thin, and now you’re leaving again”? He raise his voice.

You tried to calm the situation down, “Tadashi please I”-

“You never think about the consequences of your decisions and how it affects others. YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLY SELFISH”. He yelled, his words piercing into your ego.

You were both sitting on opposites sides of your black leather couch. The room fell silent. The only thing you both could hear was the clock ticking away and you attempting to muffle your sniffles. But before long, you hear Tadashi letting out a sigh, breaking the short term silence. between the two of you.

“I don’t know if I can wait for you this time Y/N”. Tadashi looks at you.

“No. Please stay. I want you to stay”. Your mind screamed.

“Then leave”.

You felt the couch cushions rise as Tadashi got up. He grabbed his hat from the hooks along with his keys.

Before he closed the apartment door, he looked at you hoping you would say something to make him stay. But you just sat there and stared at the blank TV.

“Goodbye Y/N”. He shuts the door.

And that was the last time you ever saw him.

The next thing you know, you got a call from Aunt Cass. She slowly broke the news about Tadashi’s passing. At first you thought Tadashi was doing this in retaliation for what happened a few weeks ago. But after the news broke out about the fire that killed Tadashi and Professor Callahan, the sad reality settles in. Tadashi is gone.

The funeral was short and simple. You stood in silence, hovering over your late boyfriend’s tomb stone while everyone around you cried. You didn’t think this was going to happen. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

You weren’t planning on sticking around during the reception. But before you could leave, Aunt Cass stopped you.

“Tadashi wrote something for you”. She hands you a white envelope.

You thanked her and began to make your way to the door. But as you were about to leave, you made eye contact with Hiro. You were about to say something, but he disappeared into his room.

You came back to your semi empty apartment physically and emotionally drained. All of your furniture has been shipped to your new apartment in london, and the only thing left is a small white mattress and a few cardboard boxes stacked into a pyramid. You took a bottle of wine from one of the moving boxes and drank out of it. You sat on the floor, letting your head fall back against the wall. Looking down at the envelope, you carefully opened it. You took out the paper and unfolded it.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to call or text you, but I don’t think you would respond. I’ll be sending this to you after the SFIT showcase. You know that I’m never good with words or with writing down my feelings, so bear with me.

I want to start off by saying, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you selfish. You were so excited about your dream job, and I ruined our night. You were never selfish to begin with, I was. The truth is, I got scared. I know we’ve done long distance in the past, but the thought of us eventually drifting apart scared me. I should’ve been more vulnerable when it came down with these things, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.

I never want to loose you. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Remember during our date at the butterfly gardens, we were all alone in the auditorium and I randomly blurted out “I want us to last forever”. Well, when I said forever, I meant it. I want us to last for a lifetime.

If anything, I want you to take that job. You’ve worked so hard for it and I bet you would make a great employee at the London office. understand that I cause you some pain, and I don’t expect you to forgive me now. But when you’re ready, I’ll be here, waiting for you.

I love you so much Y/N.

Sincerely,

Tadashi

You buried your head in your arms as you let out loud sobs. You cries drowned out the sounds of the thunder and rain outside.

You couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if you never took that job offer. What would happen if you apologized to him. Telling him how much you loved him, telling him to stay. The amount of instant regret fills up your heart, and there was no way of getting rid of the grief that came with it.

“I miss you, I’m sorry”.

A/N: I love me some angst hehe srry readers :)

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated!

Inbox is open for requests so request away!!

#tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi hamada one shot #tadashi hamada imagines #you #reader #big hero 6 x y/n #big hero six #big hero 6 x reader #big hero 6 #tadashi hamada x reader angst #i love me some angst #bh6 #baymax #hiro hamada #hiro hamada x reader #heavy angst #angst

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sammyluvr · 2 months ago

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something about being close — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, angst, fluff, sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n, 9.5K words. requested !

summary : sam's being overprotective of you, and it leads to an argument and something more.

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket.

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger’s seat to see the sneer on your face.